#I probably won’t do much with it since again it’s just a silly little thing

[quibbs126]

So I have some more vague ideas of the stupid Transformers AU thing from last night

I think originally it was going to just fade away, but last night I decided I might as well rewatch the original FNAF timeline videos since Part 3 made me realize I didn’t entirely remember what was going on, and so the mentality came back to my brain at 3 or 4 in the morning because I accidentally woke up too early

Anyways, on to random stupid ideas

So Orion is some strange entity, and quite honestly even Primus doesn’t really know what he is, even though he’s pretty sure he created it. Fortunately Orion’s full cosmic horror seems to be locked away due to currently having a mortal shell. Orion just sort of popped out of the ground in the middle of nowhere

Also for some reason my brain gave me this idea that Orion has this ability to basically become a corpse for a few hours while he just chills out in some weird spirit form. I think my brain borrowed it from a concept I had seen around for Aligned continuity’s Thirteen

Also Orion is under the impression that he has amnesia, and is unaware of his weird cosmic status. He wants to know who he is but there’s problems in finding that information, as will be detailed later

After popping out from the ground, he sort of wandered until finding himself at the mines D-16 worked in, and stumbling in there unaware of anything really happening around him

D-16 heard weird noises in his sector and went to check it out, only to find Orion in some equipment and they both sort of freaked out at the sight of each other, D might have punched him out of reflex and shock, and Orion accidentally went corpse mode

D-16 now thinks he just accidentally killed this bot, which is made worse when he gets a good look at him and is 99% sure he is a higher class bot, on account of him being much smaller than the miners and having bright colors (which here would be like a symbol of class, duller/monochrome colors means you’re likely on the bottom rungs), and then later when he hears he has an actual name instead of a number. And if someone discovers he killed a higher class bot, he is at the very least getting fired and sent to prison, which he doesn’t want, so he hides the body so no one finds it and plans to dump it after his shift is over where he won’t be traced back to him

But later when he’s doing so, Orion reactivates and gives D-16 another huge scare, but this time he doesn’t attack because he realizes he probably shouldn’t try to repeat history, thinking maybe he was just mistaken the first time (despite him definitely looking dead)

He tries to figure out who Orion is so he can try and get him sent home (while apologizing for the whole situation), but Orion doesn’t know since he doesn’t really have any memories. D thinks he must have amnesia so he tries to smuggle him back somewhere until they can figure out what to do

Meanwhile Orion thinks he’s just made a friend

D first just tries sending him on a train to Iacon, but Orion refuses to leave without D, not understanding that he’s not really allowed to leave, and sneaks off the train to stay with him. He then tries to get information on Orion since he knows his name, though getting access to a database as a lowly miner is incredibly difficult, but he has no luck there since apparently Orion Pax doesn’t exist. Though he figures it may just be an issue of them having a limited database. And by this point going up to the guards isn’t gonna work because now he’ll be arrested for “kidnapping” a higher class bot

Basically the setup here is Orion hanging out with D-16 in the mines, with Orion trying to make his new friend happy, as he seems constantly stressed and generally miserable with his lot in life, while D-16 is trying to figure out who Orion is and how to get him back home without getting arrested

D admittedly grows to like the company of Orion, as he seems unaware of any sort of class difference between them and just genuinely wants to be his friend and be nice, but he also can’t deny that Orion’s unawareness makes his life a living nightmare now and things would probably be easier for the both of them if he just got back home

Orion also has this instinctual hatred for the government that he doesn’t quite understand (still a very corrupt Cybertron here), but will act upon. D-16 agrees that the government sucks, but hopes Orion doesn’t get into too much trouble defying it. Because he’ll be the one suffering the consequences

D-16 and the other miners are probably cogless, but they’re much bigger than the miners in TF One, with this D being closer to Megatron’s size. I’m not sure if Orion can transform or not though, but I do have a mental image of D just folding him up into a cube or something, harmlessly as he can easily pop out of it

I also don’t know how Optimus and Megatron come out of this scenario. Best I can say is that Orion unintentionally starts driving D-16 crazy as he finds no leads on who Orion Pax is, and becomes more and more convinced he isn’t actually real, or that he actually did kill him that first day and everything since has just been hallucinations and delusions. But I don’t know about Optimus since becoming Optimus probably means he can no longer be this chaotic little eldritch gremlin thing

And I think that’s about it. Now I have to go study for a quiz and probably start on that short story I have due tonight

[wonderthor]

your neighbor sukuna who lives in one of the apartments upstairs may be a rough and dangerous man, but he’s funny and nice to you, so you become friends anyway. you even develop a little crush on him, and when he calls you little pet names like sweetheart and doll, you start to think he might like you too. one night you decide to go out for drinks, and as he drinks more he lets out more about his past and you learn he is a little more dangerous than you thought. he talks about how he broke into people’s houses at night all the time to steal their things and when he finally did get caught and locked up, he had probably broke into over 200 people’s houses by then.

“that’s crazy, but you wouldn’t get that lucky with me though”

he sets his beer down, raising his eyebrow at you in question.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean that im a very light sleeper, always have been. and there’s no way you couldn’t break into my apartment without me knowing it.”

he picks his beer back up and takes a swig before looking back at you with a smirk.

“you sure about that?”

you confidentially smirk back at him.

“oh absolutely. i get woken up if the wind blows a little too hard against the window. i even woke up that one time i had a mouse in my apartment and i could hear it scurrying across the floor. i would definitely hear you open my door and walk around.”

sukuna taps his fingers against the bar counter with his head in his hands and his eyes still on you, thinking.

“how about we make a bet.”

“a bet? on what?”

“if i can get into your locked apartment and into your bedroom without waking you up, i win. if i do, you win.”

“and what do i get when i win?”

sukuna chuckles at that, almost like a villain’s laugh.

“i wouldn’t worry too much about that.”

you roll your eyes at him.

“oh please, you sound way to confident in your impossible chance at winning.”

he laughs at you again.

“i am. there’s a reason i was able to break in so many people’s houses while they were still in there without getting caught. it’s kind of my specialty.”

you take another sip of your drink and lean back.

“your specialty, huh? and you still haven’t mentioned what we get if we win.”

“what do you want?”

his tone caught you off guard for a second, getting deeper and more serious without you expecting it.

“u-um, i don’t know. you can pick.”

he smiles at you again, a devious smile this time as he leans in closer to you.

“if i win, i get to do whatever i want to you. if you win, you get to do whatever you want to me.”

time stops for a minute and you don’t realize that you’re just staring at him until after several seconds.

“what do you m-mean by that?”

he leans back to hold his beer and his playful demeanor is back.

“well according to you, you won’t have to worry about that, right?”

a couple of days went by and you were still on edge. you mentally slept with your eyes open and even kept your bedroom door cracked, just in case you really couldn’t hear him come in. even though you knew it was just a bet and a silly little game, you couldn’t stop your heart from pounding against your chest. maybe because you still didn’t really know what he said meant. and there was also the eerie feeling that you were essentially waiting for him to break into your apartment, like a real robber. like the robber he used to be. and even though you knew he wasn’t dangerous to you and wouldn’t hurt you, you were still admittedly a little scared. you truly didn’t know what to expect.

it had been a couple of weeks now and you were sure sukuna was fucking with you. whenever you saw him in passing, he was his normal playful and flirty self, and mentioning nothing of the bet. you were starting to think he was kidding, just making that up to scare you and mess with you. or you also thought he could have just forgotten, since he was drinking a little and couldn’t have forgotten all about it.

but little did you know that you were playing right into his hands. he was waiting on you to lose your edge, to slowly get comfortable enough again to slip into deep and dream-filled sleeps. that’s why you didn’t expect it, why you didn’t expect to lose.

when you woke up one night, you felt your heart fall out of your body and your eyes almost jump from their sockets. there he was, in your apartment, in your bedroom, on your bed, leaning over you on his hands and knees. when he saw that you were awake and too stunned to speak, he smirked and leaned in closer to you until his face was just inches from yours.

“guess i win, sweetheart.”

[lvmimis]

cw: set during wano arc right after udon prison is conquered. reader and luffy have been separated since whole cake island arc.

You haven’t shifted in what feels like hours, and perhaps your knees are starting to get tired, but the idea of waking your sleeping love Luffy by moving makes you feel far worse than any lower extremity numbness could. With the deepness of his slumber, the reality is that even if a meteor struck the very earth right now, it probably wouldn’t be able to wake him, and yet even the way you gently stroke his hair is done gingerly, with the lightest of touches. Perhaps a small part of you is compensating for the strange men you’ve let occupy this closeness to your body, and cradling his head in your lap feels like paying a sort of penance for the way you’ve traded away your affections for coin and information over the past few weeks. It’s silly - Luffy wouldn’t care if you sold your body to every person on earth, as long as you chose to stay by him when all was said and done.

Tama peers at you from a distance, the hat she’s braided together for Luffy held tightly in her hand. 

“Do you think he’ll wake up soon?” she asks. “I made him this.”

You smile. “So very kind of you,” you offer her. She smiles brightly, and continues to hold on to it for when the right moment comes, as she walks off. You continue to watch over Luffy as he sleeps, and soon you are no longer looking at him, but through him, playing a conversation in your head that has yet to happen. 

Were you okay (without me)? How did you survive (without me)? 

Did you miss me? We won’t ever be apart again, right?

There is a part of you that attaches so strongly to this man resting in this sacred holding space - stronger than any anchor, woven more tightly than the strongest twine. Luffy is a lifeline to not just you, but many, and yet you wonder just how desperately the others hold on. Can he sense how much you need him? Does he need you even half as much?

Your hand passes carefully across the surface of his cheek. He is so peaceful when he’s asleep, like a gentle breeze, the kind that teases through linens hung out to dry; turbulent and troublesome when he is awake, a strong gust that tears roofs from homes and turns ships into wrecks. Your hand stops, and your fingers cup his cheek gently, holding your world in the palm of your hand. For just a moment, you imagine that there’s a ghost of a smile onto his features, gone just as fast as you perceive it, and your heart skips a beat.

And then suddenly you’re embarrassed. Embarrassed at the weight in your chest and the emotion that wells up inside you just looking at the man you love. Over the time you’ve been apart, you’ve grown to hate men a little - some men, the kind that see you as nothing but a form of entertainment in some way, shape or form, the type that demand to be held by a woman with care without providing any sense of safety or comfort or kindness to remind them that they are not interchangeable, that each lap is different and each bosom is a unique sort of sweetness and each heart has its own idiosyncrasies.

And yet, you could never hate this one man, even if you tried.

You try to focus your eyes on something else, relishing in the lush greens of the forest and the dappled sunlight that peeks through the tall bamboo; you focus your ears not at the thump of your own heart beating but at the bird songs. You try to feel something else other than the rise and fall of his chest.

“Hey.”

The sound of Luffy’s voice can draw you in for miles, and he’s awake now, dark brown eyes heavy-lidded as they look up at you.

It takes you a moment, but breathily you whisper a greeting back at him. “Hey.”

As though still wrought with a fairytale like fatigue, he smiles at you and it turns you into mush.

“I think I forgot how pretty you are,” he mumbles.

The last thing he means to do is to charm you with anything other than the truth, but you can feel tears come to your eyes.

And he senses this, his grin growing wider and more reassuring until the tears splash softly onto him. He brings himself up into a sitting position as you wipe them away, and quickly pulls you against his chest.

He doesn’t have to say it but the way he holds you, you can already tell, he missed you just as much as you did him.

[ghostgirl-22]

Art getting GANGBANGED💜

This made me giggle when you sent it anon, I won’t lie <3 Then I thought oh god now I have to write it. So here you are. I am so sorry for this. I don’t know what this is (it’s quite nonsensical). Honestly, feel like I flew too close to the sun. I need to retire from writing smut and start writing an older Art living peacefully by the sea. (Decide if that makes you want to read it or run away) But I digress…

CW: 18+ !NSFW! EXPLICIT bimbofication, feminization, objectification, D/s vibes if you squint, there can be the perception of CNC but I promise you everyone really wants this, especially blondie, but please avoid if things like gangbangs trigger you. Can feel a bit AU…let’s be generous and say canon drift…

Your reference is this post about a negligée (an impossible word to spell btw so watch me fuck it up repeatedly along with all my other spelling and grammar mistakes).

—-

It’s a game of truth or dare. That’s how the whole thing happens.

Regular and completely normal Friday night. Patrick’s visiting Stanford. The girls team is at an away game, traveling back tomorrow and the boys just finished a tournament playing the same team here and Art sends him a text.

Hanging out with friends probably gonna play video games, you should come and bring drinks.

And then 10 minutes later: I think my roommate wants to fuck me lol

Patrick has to laugh because this is actually the kind of stupid thing that could only happen to Art.

Art is already dizzy and flirty when Patrick arrives at his dorm with the alcohol. His cheeks are already coloring, his eyes are dilated. And it’s no wonder because he’s already getting way too much attention. There are three other boys in the bedroom with him, his roommate Carter who Patrick could tell, so very obviously wanted to fuck Art since he first met him. But it’s worse now ever since he woke up once in the middle of night and heard Patrick doing it.

And then two others Patrick doesn’t know but Art calls them Jamie and Max, “friends” from the Stanford tennis team. Patrick clocks them right away as having the same desire to fuck Art that Carter has.

That kind of male attention makes Art go silly. At this point Art doesn’t even need a drink. He’s half lost, giggling at things that aren’t even funny just because some cute boy is touching his knee, pinching his cheek, calling him pretty. Patrick’s hard immediately.

It’s truth or dare, Carter’s idea, and Patrick’s probably drinking too much. The game gets nasty pretty quickly. Art can’t sit still, he’s on his hands and knees when Max says “I dare you to kiss me.” Can’t stop himself when Jamie dares him to do it again, but with tongue. He’s in his t-shirt and boxers, ass sticking out as he crawls over Patrick’s lap to kiss Jamie. Carter’s adjusting himself, mouth open, staring at it. Patrick thinks once or twice about letting them pass him around. Shit like this is usually foreplay for him but right now he’s feeling so buzzed he might just want to see how deep this rabbit hole goes.

He’s horny as fuck, but his brain doesn’t actually break until Art’s roommate says, “Truth or Dare, roomie, is it true you stole your ex-girlfriend's lingerie?"

“I didn’t steal it,” Art hiccups, he’s distracted because Max runs his fingers through Art’s hair on his way back to the circle, with a new drink which he hands to Art. He cups Arts cheek, fingertips brush against his lips. Art’s whining “stop it,” but Patrick sees the way he follows the touch. Art doesn’t even notice it when Patrick takes the drink out of his hand, because he’s dangerously close to spilling it everywhere. He’s not even drunk, barely even tipsy and still just so empty headed.

Carter goes to Art’s Stanford issued dresser and pulls out this thing from the first drawer. Barely a thing. A pink little slip of a thing. “What’s this?”

“She let me have it,” Art says, voice pitched too high. He’s sitting on his knees, hands pressed between his thighs.

”Why?” Carter asks, like he knows something they don’t know. Patrick thinks he likes him the least.

“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone,” Art says, it’s too whiny and playful.

Patrick’s mildly annoyed now, “Share with the class,” he says. He doesn’t really want Art keeping secrets with roommates that aren’t him.

Art goes all compliant and he’s squirming on the floor as he looks at Patrick, “She said it looked better on me.”

Both Max and Jamie start snickering.

Patrick thinks of himself as a genius. He generally thinks he’s the smartest person in the room most of the time, but this has to be one of the smartest things he’s ever said or done ever. In ever. “Okay…I dare you to try it on.”

“You want me too?” Art asks, glassy eyed, as he gazes at Patrick.

Patrick grabs at his t-shirt and he doesn’t even have to pull. Art just gravitates towards him, closing his eyes, parting his lips instinctively and Patrick thinks he’s in love with him. Like one day he’ll probably marry him, move him into a house with a white picket fence and fuck him so full of come that… etcetera etcetera. The American dream.

“Yeah, put it on sweetie.” Patrick says gently. “Call me when you’re done… I want to see it first.”

Art licks his lips and opens his eyes again before he stumbles to his feet. He tries to take it from Carter but Carter hides it behind his back which means Art’s got to reach around him, touch him, play with him. When Art manages to get it away he’s already blushing. He goes in the bathroom, telling them no one better laugh. And Patrick needs a cigarette. Needs to run a marathon or climb a mountain for all the pent up energy inside him right now.

“You his boyfriend or something?” Max asks, curiously.

“Or something,” Patrick says. Truth is Art only started putting out after he found out Tashi was. And as long as Patrick has wanted to fuck Art he’s never really stopped to think about why Art chose now. Patrick isn’t picky. He’s not picky at all. He’ll fuck Art, he’ll fuck Tashi, he’d fuck them both at the same time if they wanted it.

“Can you share?” Carter asks.

Patrick shrugs, “I think I have been.”

“No I mean really share,” Carter says and he stares at the bathroom door.

Patrick smirks. “I think I need another drink.”

He can hear Art calling for him and when he taps the door to let himself in he’s pretty sure that’s the moment— the exact moment— his brain fully and completely short circuits. From that point forward he’s actually an entirely different person.

“It’s just too…” Art whines, unable to think. He’s sitting on the toilet lid bouncing his leg. The blush goes everywhere. Down his chest to the pink lacy teddy. It fits like a glove. It’s hugging his waist, see through sheer fabric over his chest embroidered with with some kind of threading that would barely hide his tits if he had any. Patrick can clearly see his nipples, taut and erect through the sheer fabric. It’s not the only part of him that’s erect. The equally sheer lace panties underneath the negligée are straining to keep him contained and he’s fucking soaking the lace with precum, so wet, Patrick thinks, leaking through his panties like a fucking girl.

Patrick thinks he’s gonna fuck him right there. Pull him on his lap and go fucking crazy.

“Patrick I—I wanna— I need—“ he stammers, helpless. He’s gone full, if I only had a brain.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Patrick says, swallowing thickly. “I know what you need. Come here.”

Art’s still bouncing his leg, he’s got pretty legs, soft and smooth and toned and so long. Still in his nearly knee high white socks. Fucking slut. Patrick guides him to his feet, and immediately Art’s wrapping his arms around Patrick. Patrick can feel the way he’s starting to rub himself along Patrick’s thigh. The wet hot heat of him. Patrick shoves Art up against the wall to stop him and he takes a deep breath, coming to the distant realization that he’s actually shivering. “Can you hear me?” Patrick asks, probably trying to calm himself down more than anything else.

Art nods.

“You hear my voice?”

“Mmhm. Patrick—- Patrick please I need—“

“I know. You need to be fucked, don’t you baby?” Patrick’s not sure what he’s saying but Art just moans. “Fuck. You don’t even care who fucking does it. You’d let anybody in right now.” Patrick continues.

Art is nodding his head. ”Mm, yes Patrick please, please, please—” he groans, begging, pleading. For one terrifying minute Patrick thinks he’s gonna get on his knees in that slutty little slip and break Patrick forever. His eyes are all glassy and wet and he’s trying to get friction, attention, something, his blonde curls falling into his eyes.

“Oh fuck it, come on,” Patrick says and he opens the door. Art walks timidly into the bedroom. Patrick stays a second longer to look for the lube under the counter and finds a box of unopened condoms too. The second he stayed was too long. Carter’s already got Art pressed up against the wall, tongue in his mouth, Jamie’s got his hands inside the fabric of the negligée, rubbing his nipples like he’s got a full set of tits or something. Max is watching, touching himself, idly over his boxers.

The whole time Art’s moaning helplessly moving his hips. Needy like he’s in heat. Patrick makes them wear a condom if they want him. And holy fuck do they want him.

Patrick starts it first on the bed, pulls Art on his lap just to get him wet, get him loose. He’s careful about it. Art’s so horny he’s trying to lose it quickly so Patrick has to grab onto him, slow him down. Even him out.

“Fuck,” Art’s whining, mindlessly. “Fuck, Patrick it’s so big. It’s so big. It’s so fucking… much.”

Patrick’s rubbing his tummy through the fabric, he’s flexed so tight, barely breathing. Patrick moves up to brush his nipples and he moans.

“Hey gorgeous, you wanna try this?” Max whispers, pressing his cock to Art’s lips. “I dare you.”

Art doesn’t need the dare. He takes it in his mouth eagerly. Patrick can feel him squeezing, clenching, grinding as he sucks on it… can feel the overwhelming heat of his tight little body. Patrick grips him tighter to steady him. “Take your time,” Patrick whispers.

He’s taking so much in his mouth. Max starts groaning, “Oh fuck. Yeah, take your time gorgeous, holy shit.”

Patrick kisses on his throat where he’s swallowing and tries to coax him off. If he stays inside much longer he’s going to lose his mind and that’s the last thing he needs right now. They need at least one working brain between them.

Art’s breathing heavy when he opens his mouth, drool spilling everywhere. Patrick pushes him to get up and Carter grabs him next. He pushes him on the bed on his hands and knees and goes to town, so eager he barely lasts. As Carter’s fucking him Art is licking Jamie’s cock, and then swallowing on Max’s, occassionally both at the same time. Patrick is sitting on the other twin bed, trying his best not to lose it untouched for how fucking hot this is. Art is so far gone Patrick wonders if he even realizes how much of a fucking mess he is.

He’s got it all over him, hands, tongues, cock. They’re all kissing, touching, putting fingers in his hair, in his mouth, in his ass. Jamie and Carter both fighting to get a turn. Jamie fucking him till he’s coming, hot sticky ropes of it dripping, dripping slowly from his soaked panties onto the bed. He’s overstimulated taking Max, but he doesn’t stop. He’s pushing back on it, moaning in a way that sounds like he’s vacillating between pleasure and pain.

Carter starts kissing him and eventually Arts just moaning into his mouth.

“You’re so goddamn pretty,” Jamie’s cooing, jerking himself. “Gonna make me wanna nut again, fuck.”

Art’s making pleasure sounds only now. His cock filling up again just a few minutes before Max is finishing inside him.

“Shit, that felt so fucking good,” Max breathes. Art looks around dizzy as Max pulls out and starts tying the condom off. And then Carter’s on him, kissing him again, so he sits up and crawls into Carter’s arms so he can be held. But Patrick grabs him by the waist.

“My turn, come here, princess,” Patrick says, teasingly, pulling him back onto the second bed. His bed.

“Patrick—I think I— I need to—“ Art’s climbing onto him all doe eyed and wet, wet lips, wet eyes, wet with sweat and come and lube. The lingerie falling off one shoulder and his pretty pink nipple just exposed. Patrick nibbles at it gently.

“Patrick,” Art whines.

“You wanna come?” Patrick asks softly. His voice doesn’t sound like his own. He pulls Art onto his lap and eases himself inside and Art’s moving right away. He feels looser than Patrick’s ever felt him before but he’s still so nice and warm, and too fucking tight for him. He’s not ever to be trusted alone with boys, Patrick decides. Not boys like this at least. He just barely gets Art over the finish line when he’s losing it. It’s not even 5 minutes and he’s losing it. Does it raw just to spill it all inside him. If Patrick had something to prove he might be embarrassed but he is the one holding onto Art in the end, soothing him. Calming him down as he comes back to reality and in that reality Art is his…even if Patrick is more than willing to share when Art needs it.

When the other boys have left and Carter’s in the shower and they’re finally alone together Art is mostly back to himself. They’re eating leftover pizza and watching Sports Center. Art is devouring his, probably starving after using all of that energy. Patrick tangles his fingers into Art's hair, it’s still a little damp from the shower.

“Truth or dare,” Patrick says

“Truth,” Art says, his mouth half full.

Patrick sighs. “I don’t know what that was but you’re fucking beautiful.”

Art turns to look at Patrick with a little smirk, still chewing. “I know.”

“And you can’t ever do that when I’m not there.”

“I know,” Art says again.

“So I’m keeping the lingerie.”

Art shrugs, “I know.”

“Okay know it all,” Patrick gazes back at him and then takes the rest of the pizza crust out of his hand, smiling as he takes a bite. “Good.”

[flor4de4amor]

hockey!abby with the reader being her biggest fan prompt 🫣🫣

click for palestine | boycott tlou!!! | read b4 engaging w me

ok i changed the prompt up a little bit again, but i promisseeeee it's the last time!!!! (it's probably not but shh!!)

you’re almost at every single one of abby’s games. it’s always easy for her to spot you. you’re sectioned off in the front, in one of her old hoodies. at any free moment she has on the ice, abby skates by your section, blowing a kiss, that you eagerly pretend to catch. 

but the key word is almost. this is one of the few games you’ve missed since you and abby have been going steady. even when she used to play college hockey, and you had a silly little crush on her, you’d do your best to show up at the games. hiding somewhere in the back row of watchers, but still keeping an eye out for your favorite player. 

your absence was definitely noted this game. abby had been missing shots, which was quite unusual for her. her teammates teasing her, asking if she needed her good luck charm. to which her answer is yes. a resounding, bolded, large, all caps, yes. 

who was she gonna blow kisses to? who was gonna come rub her back in the locker room after the game? williams better not try it. abby’ll bite her head off, and you’ll never hear the last of it. abby can’t remember the last time she’s played without you watching. you’re her favorite trophy to show off. all pretty, with a wide smile, and gorgeous for her to brandish for anyone who’ll listen. 

the game is rough, for a lack of better words. the team loses,by a lot. too much for abby’s liking. she drives home, her fist pounding her steering wheel. occasionally at a red light while releasing anger onto the battered wheel, she hits the horn. stirring her from the storm of anger, and causing a cluster of horns following hers. the cars are speaking for their agitated drivers. abby sighs as she pulls into your shared driveway. the last thing she wants to hear you say is that you watched the game.

she sees your blurred frame on the couch through the window film of the front door. she sees you jolt up as her keys jingle through the hole, unlocking the door. you sit up drowsily, your nose agitated as you’ve been blowing it through the better half of the week. flu season had captured you as it’s latest victim.

“i saw the game baby,” you say with a raspy throat and nasally voice. abby sighs, and allows her head to hang to the floor. she should’ve known better paying for the extra hulu subscription. of course you’d use it. she’s mentally kicking herself. “you played really good baby,” you tell her sitting half up wrapped up in your favorite blanket.

she snorts, “sure,” she replies sarcastically.

“i’d kiss you better but i’m so sick right now, lovie.” you blow her a ton of kisses with your hands, though your dominant limb clutches an array of crumpled tissues.

she catches them, pulling them to her heart. “you miss one game and you’re stealing all my moves?” she raises her eyebrow at you.

you toss your hand at her dismissively. “i’m allowed,” you say with a playful closed lip smile. 

“one kiss won’t hurt me,” abby rolls her eyes. pressing a soft one on your forehead, and another to the corner of your mouth. “i’ve built up my immune system,” she tells you offhandedly. “ate dirt when i was a kid,” she laughs to herself. bullshit, but, whatever. “so you saw the game?” she fiddles with her thumbs, and avoids eye contact for a minute. when talking about her sport, this was when you’d catch abby at some of her most vulnerable.

“uhuh,” you tell her after catching a sneeze into the corner of your forearm. “‘scuse me,” you mumble.

“you’re ‘scused pretty,” abby replies while waiting for a further in depth answer than ‘uhuh.’

“you did such a good job baby,” you smile at her tiredly. “you shouldn’t beat yourself up too much. you really can’t win them all.”

“that’s insulting,” she smiles at you. “i definitely can. i just need my good luck charm.”

“i don’t do not a thing. it’s all you on the ice abs. don’t give me too much credit,” you say before having a slew of coughs.

“hey,” abby says putting a stern mask in her voice, “don’t pick on my favorite groupie now,” she burst out into laughter.

“i won’t make a habit of it, if you can make me some hot tea. my throat’s killing me.” abby nods her head, kissing your forehead once more and setting the kettle up. who was she to even deny her biggest fan, same one who stayed up late watching her girl’s game on her deathbed? abby’s mean, but not a monster. 

[reignpage]

hi hello reign🧎‍♀️ had a silly (horny 😇) question, how do u think the edenu jjk men are when drunk— like i can imagine gojo being all clingy and needy with reader so my question goes more about that sort of thing. maybe the question could be like how do you think they get when they’re drunk and needy/horny?

Gojo: he is indeed clingy and needy

First, he’s very hyper, bouncing off the walls and screaming. He’s a lot. But then he crashes quite badly and he’s all mopey, hair flattening, and he glues himself to reader’s side. Or if reader isn’t there, he’s spamming her phone, crying to anyone and everyone who’ll listen that he misses his girlfriend.

He just lies in her lap, rambling about whatever new hyperfixation he has. Doesn’t ever stop talking, but what’s new. However, when drunk, he is a little more sensitive. So if reader looks at something else for even a second, he’s pouting and accusing her of not loving him.

He’ll go on a strike, giving her silent treatment but that never lasts long lol. He forgets all about why he’s upset and he plasters himself to her again.

Very sensitive when drunk. Will cum at the drop of a hat. He's cocky at first but once reader pushes him, he's ready to call her mommy (and he does).

Geto: depressed

He becomes very quiet and contemplative. More so than usual. He has a high tolerance. He’ll sip on whiskey or something and watch out the window, just thinking about everything. If reader’s with him, then it’s just a lot of comfortable silence.

He also becomes quite appreciative. He gives a small smile and brushes her hair back, muttering how lucky he is to have such a ball of light with him.

Doesn’t sleep.

Just thinks.

As for being needy, he's always very in control. But when he's drunk and needy, it's the one opportunity reader has to lead. She never lets it pass. So, she makes him beg, makes him whimper, edges him again and again until he's disheveled and in near tears, too languid to do anything about it

Reader also uses this opportunity to do some of the things her sister recommends like roleplaying, wearing costumes etc

Choso: horny

Very very horny.

He can’t take his hands off reader. He’s leaking in his boxers, whimpering if the wind so much as blows a little too hard past him. He also becomes dominant. He pounces on her, not even bothering to remove all their clothes off properly and he slides in and uses her like a toy. I don’t even think he realises what he’s doing. Reader’s probably high and finding all of it so funny.

The next day, he won’t remember a single thing and when reader tells him everything he did, he’s blushing and denying it.

That doesn’t sound like him, he says.

You’re just teasing me again, he says.

Toji: very high tolerance, never gets drunk drunk tbh

Always very responsible. He gets tipsy at most and he’s taking care of everyone. He doesn’t like to drink too much or too often because it’s not good for his health and god forbid he gets a beer belly. Just becomes louder and a little more clumsy, like he waves his arms too hard and too fast. He really had to be careful around reader because he becomes a not so gentle giant and he’d be very upset if he accidentally hits her.

Just not too fond of alcohol generally, especially because he’s around college students and he knows how they get. He never wants to lose control and become violent and aggressive.

He’d hate himself if he became sloppy.

So yeah, can't really say much about drunk and needy Toji. He's just the same but maybe more clumsy and less rough since he's conscious about his movements and the fact that being inebriated means he might be more prone to pushing things too far

Nanami: more dominant and more pathetic

He alternates between two different moods as we’ve seen: dominant Nanami and yearning Nanami

He rambles a lot about physics and science, he’ll talk anyone’s ear off about his dissertation and his phd etc. he also becomes less guarded, becomes more expressive and honest.

Rarely gets drunk, in college his tolerance sucked but as he grew older, he turns into an alcohol connoisseur. He appreciates whisky and scotch and wine. So he just sips and tastes but never downs a shot or something

OH and he loves drunk sex, the way it's sloppy, everything's extra sticky, and the haze makes his orgasm much stronger than he can tolerate otherwise

OH OH OH and he lovessss cockwarming when he's drunk. He drinks whilst he's inside her, and he occasionally, and purposefully, spills some of his drink on her so he can lick and suck it off her skin. Nothing could possibly taste sweeter than bad habits paired with her sinful body

Sukuna: murderous and sweet

MAN SHOULD NEVER HAVE A DRINK PLEASE TAKE IT AWAY FROM HIM

He lets slip his inhibitions and everyone's lives is ruined. I don't even want to get into it. He's so easily triggered when he's drunk. And he's also very destructive. He'll destroy rooms in whatever establishment he's getting drunk in whether that's a bar, a restaurant, a freaking karaoke place, someone's house, his own house etc

He's just sadistic x 100000000000000000

When drunk and needy, he's very very sweet. Again, one of those rare moments where his guard goes down and he doesn't want rough sex, he just wants to hold reader. If she's still working in her office for example he'll come in, ignoring her venomous demands to get the fuck out, and he'll kneel between her legs and eat her out. He's not even trying to bring her to orgasm, he just wants to taste her. In fact, he doesn't say anything at all. Just eats her out for like an hour, she cums like five times, and then he wipes his mouth, gives her a pec on her lips and another on her head, and then he leaves

[litsenn]

Astarion and irony, my two cents.

Alright so I was reading this post on reddit about how Astarion's charisma is not that good, and how cringe and awkward he's when he flirts. Very interesting reading, the comments too were inspiring.

Although I agree with a lot of things written by the OP, I wanted to give my two cents... and it turned into a little 'essay'. So I thought I could post it here too.

(As always, it's only my pov, and I don't expect anyone to agree)

Indeed, you can easily tell that his beauty was enough for him to pick up victims for Cazador. With a smile like this, it doesn’t take too much effort to seduce people, especially vulnerable, desperate/drunk targets.

But there’s also something that is rarely addressed: Astarion's dark sense of humour, self-derision and tragical irony. It’s particularly visible in the mirror scene (“tell me I’m beautiful and we can call it a day” with that smirk, or his approval if you tell him you find another companion prettier). Also the dialogue about how you (I'll be using the general you) would prefer to die, or who you would bite; they're all dripping with sarcasm and irony. Likewise, when he tells you, after the first night, that the others could probably hear you from camp: he's jesting, because he's feeling comfortable for the first time in 200 years.

And even the dialog about his favorite pick up lines. Of course he's still trying to seduce you, but I think he's perfectly aware that those “lines” are over the top and won’t work on you. You just challenged him to find something better that "my little treat", so he gives you the worst .

To me, it seems like he knows how ridicule it is, and that’s precisely why he quotes them with so much emphasis. It's dramatic in a sense, because he's doing what he was forced to do for years, although he knows he doesn't have to do it anymore. "His favourite lines" he calls them, although he must hate them (hence the dark look upon his face when he quotes them.); irony again. And no matter how much he must loathe those lines, he seems to be having fun practicing them with you and seeing your reaction. (And if you ask him if he's having fun, i think he's really honest when he says yes, "it's hard not to with you")

It’s just my interpretation, but it's obvious to me that he’s playing – not playing you, but playing with you. Playing in the sense that he knows you won't trust a single word he's saying. And somehow this irony connects the two of you, the laughable (but tragic) idea of Astarion picking up lovers with those lines. His tone is overdramatic when he quotes them precisely because he knows how bad they are (and since Petras uses more or less the same lines, I tend to believe that they come from Cazador).

After all, at this point, you already slept together once, so Astarion knows you’re attracted to him and he doesn’t take that “flirt” too seriously (and that’s precisely why it works on my Durge ahah); he expects you to say yes because of course you liked it the first time.

Obviously, he’s still trying to play it cool because he's scared and confused (you probable are one of the rare persons he can have a second night with), but I don't think he believes those lines can actually turn you on. 

As for the “I love you”, I think he's being ironic again, because he knows you won’t believe him, he's deeply conscious that in this context, it doesn't mean anything and that you won't fall for it... (or will you? Maybe a part of him is already falling for you at this point, so who knows?). Anyway, he first says “what about everyone's favourite ?” which, to me, implies that he’s just making a silly demonstration of the type of “bad flirting” he’s used to. He shows off a little, as if telling you “look how easy it can be...”. The way he changes the tone of his voice and the look upon his face to make those three little words more believable seems to point at something along those lines : it's fun and tragic how much those empty words can make someone fall for you, there's some kind of irony here too.

But you... Well, he never promised to love you, he was clear from the start : only depraved carnal lust, so, obviously, none of you expect to hear "I love you". Dramatic irony again, from a narrative perspective this time, if you take the whole romance storyline.

And that silly yet lowkey tragic conversation is soon deflated by his frontal and casual proposition to have sex again. Another proof, to me, that he knew he didn't need to throw his lines at you, he did it because it was fun, in a pretty dark, ironical way.

He’s wearing a mask, the mask that "can open a lot of doors”, and since he begins to trust you, he laughs at that truth, ironically of course, because his beautiful face, the seduction, that’s also the tragedy of his existence.

Anyway, once again, that's just my personal interpretation, and that's much too long 😅

[miley1442111]

Hi love :) I was wondering if you wouldn't mind doing a little something for Derek Morgan? Where reader and Derek have a similar dynamic to Chandler and Monica from friends, maybe something similar to that one scene where Monica gets called high-maintenance and can't stop thinking about it and Chandler comforts her by saying that whilst you may be a little above the average maintence level (or something around those lines, it's been like 2 years since I last watched friends 😅), he's just like, "it's okay, because I like... maintaining you?".

Btw I'm obsessed with your fics I just finished reading all your Aaron fics in one go. Thank you so much my love! <333

omg i love this ideaaaa so much (Truth be told I've never watched friends once so i did in fact have to look this scene up on youtube)

i hope you enjoy!!

a/n: intended for fem or male reader, so imagine what you like:)))))))))

summary: you're not high maintenance, right?

pairing: derek morgan x reader

warnings: general criminal minds topics, mild insecurities

High-maintenance. You weren’t high maintenance, right? 

It had been a throw-away comment from earlier in the week, something funny David had said. Though it stuck with you, making you question if you were high-maintenance or not. 

Was it high maintenance to ask your boyfriend to drive you to the gym? To ask him to get you a coffee? To ask his opinion on things? To ask him to help you with something?

You were going over it constantly in your head, so much so, that you’d decided to change. 

Him getting you coffee turned into you getting him coffee. Him helping you on cases turned into you practically ignoring him unless you were alone, or at home. Him giving his opinion on anything you’d usually ask him to give his opinion on, turned into never asking his opinion. Him driving you to the gym turned into you walking there and back alone. Maybe that one was a mistake… 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat in the passenger seat of his car, the rain had ruined your hair, your active clothes sticking to your body, and his voice droning on in a lecture of why it wasn’t safe to walk home at 11pm alone. 

“I mean I seriously don’t understand baby, why can’t you just let me pick you up?-” he was worried. The kind of worry that made someone pissed off. 

“Why can’t I just let you pick me up, Derek?” You mocked. “I fucking wonder why.” 

“You wanna’ tell me something baby?” He cocked his head to the side, glancing at you quickly. 

“No,” you mumbled. 

“What is wrong with you this week? We’re barely spending any time together, you won’t let me drive you anywhere, you’re acting like I’m not there at work-”

“I’m trying Derek, alright. Give me a fucking break,” you huffed.

“What are you ‘trying’ to do?” He asked, genuine confusion coating his words. 

You just sighed and left the car as he parked it outside your shared apartment. You stood in the elevator, his jacket around your shoulders, feeling silly. Why had you let him pick you up? Oh yeah, three guys were following you. Probably the safer choice, though it didn’t make you feel any less childish. 

You’re so high maintenance, a voice in your head nagged and you slipped his jacket off and handed it to him. 

“Baby, can you just talk to me?” he asked, pulling the emergency stop button and turning to you. 

“About what?” You started the elevator again, wanting to ignore whatever issue he thought you two had. 

“Baby, if I did something-”

“You did nothing,” you reassured him with a sad chuckle.

“Then what’s wrong?” He asked, taking your hand in his. “Please talk to me.”

You looked down at his hand, a sad smile on your face. “It’s nothing.”

“Tell me anyway,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“Do you think I’m high maintenance?” You asked, scared of his answer. 

He smiled down at you and sighed. “You’re a little high maintenance.”

“Oh…” you sighed. So Dave was right. Everything he’d said was right. Derek probably finds you so annoying. He probably hates you.

“But I like getting to do the maintenance. I like taking care of you,” he smirked, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’m glad you let me take care of you.”

“What?” You stared at him and he pressed a kiss to your lips. 

“I like maintaining you,” he repeated and a smile spread across your face. 

Who listens to Rossi anyway?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :) - requests are open! :)

[lascvitae]

if its okay can i request aespa as your gf headcanons please… i literally love your writing soo much

—🎧

♯┆aespa as your girlfriend .ᐟ

synopsis. aespa as your girlfriend headcanons!!

pairing. aespa x fem!reader warnings. kinda suggestive?? genre. fluff!

now playing. every summertime by niki thinkin bout you by katie only by leehi sweet & easy by wonder girls bonnie & clyde by yuqi girl by oceanfromtheblue raise y_our glass by huh yunjin summer in love by saay die for you by the weeknd

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ katty ᥫ᭡: YOOO HI OFCCC 😻😻😻 sorry it’s so late i literally fell asleep earlier LOLZ also another double post i spoil yall sm 😔😔

masterlist.

───𝓚ARINA

☒ would LOVEEEE teasing you, like you wouldn’t ever get a break

☒ “what’d you say about my hairstyle again that one time?” with a large smirk on her face.

☒ wouldn’t be able to keep her hands off of you, expect a lot of skinship

☒ shows you all the songs she has obsessions with

☒ “baby listen to this! it reminds me of us” 🥺

☒ very attentive, knows everything about you and notices everything about you

☒ SOOO cheesy like such a loser for you

☒ listens to you while you yap about your interests

☒ would watch all your favorite shows with you

☒ loves buying you things, no matter the price

☒ “i saw you looking at this when we went shopping so i got it for you!”

☒ her favorite dates with you would be the ones where you’re indoors, cuddling eachother and watching a movie

☒ very protective of you and can get jealous, even tho she won’t show it ☹️☹️ (you can always tell when she pouts)

☒ your pain is definitely her pain

☒ “hey, hey, hey. who said that? who said you aren’t good enough? you’re perfect, angel. and if not to the rest of the world then to most. me, all of aespa, your friends. we see how beautiful you are.”

☒ leaves cute little messages for you after that, her baby has to see how much she means to her

☒ loves to kiss your forehead, stems from her being so caring

☒ appreciates you so much && shows it in ANY way she possibly can

─── 𝓖ISELLE

☒ loves taking pictures of you. i just know it. YOUR BIGGEST SIMP

☒ “why are you laughing aeri??” “oh, nothing. i was just looking at this picture i took of you the other day.”

☒ your biggest fan, like she cheers for every single accomplishment you get

☒ looks at you with hearts in her eyes whenever you speak

☒ LOVES to bicker with you playfully, she’d be such a fun and silly gf

☒ “can we go get crumbl??” “i guess… only because i want cookies though” 🙄

☒ shows you off in any way she possibly can, has a whole folder for you

☒ “oh her? nah, she ain’t a model. she’s my girlfriend.” so cheesy

☒ all her captions would be love songs, girl’s in deep

☒ expect random compliments and ���i love yous’

☒ absolutely LOVES when you wear her clothes, probably buys them only thinking you would wear them

☒ loves going on late night drives with you & listening music

☒ loves to makeout with you in the car

☒ her favorite dates with you would be at the arcade or amusement park, mostly bc she loves the little games you guys play, even if they’re dumb af

☒ “i bet i can beat you in mario kart!” “you wish!”

☒ “i can eat my ice cream faster than you.” “as if.”

☒ puts you first always, there’s nothing more important to her

☒ loves kissing your hand because she noticed it calms you down and it’s also something quick (since she loves kissing you sm)

───𝓦INTER

☒ puppy gf puppy gf PUPPY GF

☒ did i mention shes a puppy gf?

☒ look… ima try my hardest not to be biased bc i love me some minjeong 🫦🫦

☒ clingy af

☒ extremely giggly around you, thinks you’re the funniest person on earth

☒ has on her rose tinted glasses on around you ALWAYS

☒ like in her head yall are two cats in love with eachother

☒ the shy girlfriend that always wants your attention && is secretly weird af

☒ loves when you play with her hair, especially after a long day of practice

☒ LOVES sleeping/laying in bed with you

☒ just loves doing anything with you actually

☒ can sit with you in silence and mumble ‘i love you’ after every few minutes

☒ “mm… five more minutes?”

☒ loves to go on shopping sprees with you but her favorite dates would be the ones where you guys go stargazing or sightseeing

☒ imagine you and minjeong sitting at the picnic blanket, pointing at all the different stars and comparing them to each other

☒ “this is nothing compared to your eyes.” “you’re so cheesy, y/n!” she loves it

☒ always asking you what hair color she should get next, she just values your opinion sm

☒ loves hanging out with you

☒ she loves teaching you things

☒ loves kissing your lips bc it’s the sweetest form of affection to her

☒ you’re one of her biggest motivators, like she loves bringing you to the studio and to photoshoots

☒ “i’ll just only be a few minutes late on stage… i wanna stay in bed with you a little longer.” you can never say no to her

───𝓝INGNING

☒ so down bad for you

☒ everyone will point out how happy shes been lately and she’ll just laugh and go “yeah, i started talking to y/n” with the most obvious blush ever

☒ loves talking to you… your voice is her favorite song

☒ could spend everyday on the phone with you fr

☒ loves singing to you, would always be serenading you

☒ makes you playlists 24/7 and sings the songs when you listen to them together

☒ loves making vlogs & videos with you

☒ “hey guys! me and the wife just got chipotle and she found an ant in her food!! it’s real y’all…” “oh my god ning—“ and the video ends there

☒ takes pictures of you when she thinks you aren’t looking then laughs it off once she gets caught

☒ her favorite dates would be the ones where yall go out to eat (and always get a noise complaint)

☒ she would just love going out with you period, no matter where

☒ “y/n look at this” as she pulls the bangs back on the wednesday doll…

☒ loves the giddy feeling she gets when you cheer her on, makes her want to work harder

☒ loves to post subtle things about you, she loves the idea of being in love with you

☒ lets you hear all of the aespa demo songs and see all their albums before they come out (even sneaks you one)

☒ loves holding your hand, like she will drag you along when shes excited

☒ still finds it so crazy that yall are together… she just loves you so bad fr

☒ loves it when you kiss her cheeks and loves kissing your nose

☒ matching fits

☒ “can i post this on instagram? i want everyone to see how pretty we look together.”

permanent taglist — @saysirhc

[1d1195]

Neighbors Extra VII

Read Neighbors here | ~1.8k words

From me: surprise! This has been in my drafts since I finished the original storyline

Warnings: none

Summary: It's the first s'mores fire of the summer. She and Harry are in love with their little life. And Rory hates lying.

“Hey lad,” Harry said. They were sitting on the couch watching the latest Disney movie that Rory had been asking to watch. Harry paused it and Rory looked at Harry curiously. He wondered if he forgot to put his shoes away or a different chore that Mumma asked before she left to see his Auntie. “D’you remember when y’went to the hospital cause y’were sick... and we ate pancakes the next morning?”

“I remember. Mumma made chocolate milk,” he nodded.

“Right,” Harry chuckled. The real highlight of that morning it seemed. “Do y’remember me asking if I could date, Mummy?”

He thought for a moment and nodded. For Rory, that was a weird question when it was asked. But he didn’t think too much of it in itself because he was little. Also, Harry was his best friend, so he didn’t really mind because it just meant he got to play with Harry more often. “Yeah, I remember.”

Harry smiled, took a deep breath. “Do y’think you’d be okay with me marrying Mummy?”

“What’s that? Like have Christmas with Mumma?” his little brow puckered together. “We already do that Harry, silly.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. Rory was the cutest thing in the entire world. “That’s merry with an e, lad. I said marry with an a. D’you know what marry means?”

He shook his head. “I hearded it once in a movie.”

Harry smiled and looked at his hands a moment before he looked up at the now six-year-old. “I ask Mummy if she wants t’marry me and if she says yes, I have t’give Mummy a ring t’put on her finger. And then we would have a big party.”

“I like parties,” Rory smiled impishly nodding his head.

Harry laughed quietly again and nodded. “Me too. All of our friends and family would come and... well I’d be Mummy’s husband and she’d be my wife.”

Rory knew those words from kindergarten. His teacher had a husband. “Wouldn’t you be my dad, then?”

Swallowing nervously, Harry nodded. He was wondering if Rory would think about that. “Well, yeah, kind of.”

“I thought you already were,” Rory shrugged casually.

Harry chuckled. He could have cried if he wasn’t trying so hard to keep it together. “Well thanks, lad. I kind of think so too. This would make it a bit more real.”

“Would you and Mumma have another baby?”

“Maybe,” Harry smiled. He certainly hoped so.

“I think Mumma would like a girl,” he told Harry. “So then she would have someone to play with like I play with you.”

Harry smiled. “So I can marry her?”

“Does this mean you have to kiss more?” He wrinkled his nose.

“Probably.”

“I still don’t like kissing,” he grumbled.

“I know, lad. We won’t kiss that much in front of you.”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged. “You can marry her. Can we finish the movie?”

Harry pulled Rory into his arms and gave him a huge hug and kissed the top of his head. “I love you, Rory,” Harry said knowingly.

“I love you too, Harry,” he giggled.

*

“Mumma, do we have s’mores stuff?” Rory asked.

“Hmm... let me go look,” she said. “I’ll get some drinks, too. Do you want anything in particular, baby?” She asked looking at Harry.

Harry’s heart warmed at her kindness as always. “M’fine, kitten, thank you.”

“Careful around the fire, boys,” she said as she headed back for the house to look for supplies and drinks. Rory was sitting patiently by the fire while Harry kept an eye on him and the flames. Glancing toward the gate leading out toward the front he saw a single hand wave over top and then a thumbs up.

“Hey lad, d’you remember our conversation from a couple weeks ago? When I asked you if I could marry Mummy?”

He nodded watching the flames. “We’ll have a party, right?”

Harry chuckled. “Yes,” he nodded. “Would y’want t’help me ask Mummy?” He wondered.

He shrugged. “Sure!” He wasn’t doing anything at the moment. Mumma and Harry always said he was a really good helper too.

“Good,” Harry grinned. “M’gonna ask her when she comes back out. D’you think y’can give her this?” He asked, handing him a card from the back of his chair’s pocket compartment. He nodded. “Tell her y’made it at school and y’want to give it to her now,” he winked.

“That’s lying, Harry,” Rory pouted and shook his head. “Mumma doesn’t like lying.”

Shoot. Harry forgot that Rory was the sweetest little boy in the world. “You’re right. S’a little fib, I promise she’ll forgive you. This is the one time.” He wrinkled his eyebrows together and pursed his lips. Rory really wanted to help Harry. But he did not like the idea of lying to Mumma. She would get really mad. “I promise this one is okay,” Harry said again.

Rory sighed and nodded. “Okay... just this once though.”

Harry nodded and crossed over his heart. “Just this once.”

“Alright boys,” she said returning with her arms full, silencing Harry’s prep work. “I have the goods. Are we ready for the first s’mores fire of the summer?” She said wrinkling her nose so cutely as she settled the stuff on the nearby patio table. Harry glanced at the gate once more and then back to her.

“Here, love,” Harry said moving to her side and pressing a hand on her lower back. “Let me,” he smiled. “You sit,” he said pressing a kiss on the side of her head so gently she wondered what that was all about. It was just s’mores. And she liked s’mores. She was good at making them and didn’t mind in the slightest. But it was nice as always for Harry to just do things for her after so many years of having to do everything on her own. Even when he did little things like scooping Rory up from his car seat or carrying the groceries in, it just made everything so much easier for her.

She thought about the month and a half she tried avoiding Harry. It was by far the stupidest thing she had ever done, and she wondered often what would have happened if she never got over her silly fears. But fortunately, she didn’t have to worry long, because Harry was right there, making s’mores for her and Rory like he always did.

“Mumma, I made this in school,” Rory said suddenly pulling her from her thoughts. Rory looked at Harry impishly as he handed the envelope to his mum. Good thing this would be the only lie. He was a little worse for wear on the delivery.

“For me?” She smiled curiously and took the envelope in her fingers. She slid open the top.

“Uh-huh,” Rory giggled sheepishly.

Harry glanced at the gate again and then held his breath as she pulled the card from the envelope. “What’s it say, Mumma?” Rory giggled and if she hadn’t already been reading the words on the card, she would have realized Rory had no part in this little scheme.

She turned suddenly after her eyes scanned the card once and she looked at Harry with wild eyes. “Harry?” She asked nervously.

“Harry said I could lie,” Rory said quickly seeing her discomfort and was worried he would get in trouble. He didn’t like it when Mumma was mad at him. Mumma was the best and didn’t ask Rory to do anything except to not lie. “Just this once,” he promised.

“That’s okay, love bug,” she said softly barely looking at him as she did. Relieved that he wasn’t going to upset Mumma, Rory sat back in his chair and waited for Harry to do whatever it was that he wanted to do.

For once, she ignored Rory. Her eyes stayed on Harry as she felt her heart nearly beat out of her ribs. “What does it say, beautiful?” Harry smiled. His eyes were so gentle.

“It says ‘Life is s’more fun with you, will you spend the rest of it with me?’” She read carefully.

Harry bit his lip. “It is s’more fun with you,” he repeated, and he moved in front of her chair and knelt between the fire and her. “Will you marry me?” It was amazing Harry could be so hopelessly in love with her and have her still be so surprised that she was deserving of love that was so all encompassing, Harry sometimes wondered how he could stay upright.

“Really?” She whispered breathlessly and her eyes darted to Rory so briefly, but Harry still caught it.

Harry chuckled. “Yes, really, you silly, sweet thing,” he rolled his eyes. “M’horribly in love with you and would like t’spend the rest of our lives together,” he repeated. “Please marry me?” He repeated.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus Christ, just say yes!” Her sister’s voice distinctly called from the front gate.

“You brought my sister here?” She asked with a teary giggle.

“Auntie?!” Rory shouted and ran for the gate.

“Um... I brought everyone... I really anticipated you saying ‘yes’ a lot quicker than this,” he chuckled awkwardly. Rory opened the gate, and the entourage of people Harry invited came through the gate. Her eyes lifted to look at them so briefly she barely saw who was in attendance. Her eyes returned to Harry knelt before her waiting expectantly for her answer. “I’ll beg if you want,” he said softly with a grin.

“Mumma, look! Grandma’s here!”

She smiled and waved to her mom standing beside Anne and Gemma who were watching with such happy smiles. “You really want to marry me?” She asked softly. As if no one was in the backyard except her and Harry.

“Very badly,” he nodded, and he pulled the box from his pocket. “Maybe this will help,” he smiled gently. The diamond glittered in the sun so beautifully. Harry was wonderful. He always was and this was no exception. But she closed the box quickly as she answered.

“I’d marry you without it,” she whispered.

He chuckled, shook his head at her. “So that’s a yes?” Harry had never felt so happy. He didn’t think she would say no, but he knew she could convince herself she didn’t deserve happiness if he gave her enough time.

“God, yes,” she nodded and giggled excitedly. She leaned forward as Harry moved toward her as well and kissed her sweetly on the lips.

“You said no kissing!” Rory called.

She laughed against his lips, ignoring her son’s protest and continued kissing Harry. “I’ll love you forever,” she promised.

Harry grinned, nodded, and kissed her again as he mumbled against her lips. “And then some.”

--

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How would Sinners react to a proposition of skinny dipping? You don't have to write all of them ofc :3

Ohhh, you are going to be the end of me /pos /nm the way I had to ponder this for so long. I’m dying

Unedited! Slight nsfw themes (mentions of nudity) ahead!

Hmm, I think Don is all for it as a fun adventure. Like, oh cool you want to swim in a lake together, this will be so fun, you can find something to jump into the water from or splash each other. If she’d be excited for having sone fun in the lake with someone, it’d be you. Those are her thoughts for exactly ten seconds before it hits her that skinny dipping also includes both parties being naked, preferably away from everyone else and pretty intimate. Her eyes get a bit wide as she’s hit with that realization but she’s Don, of course she won’t back down. Might blurt out something like ‚naked?’ Just as that thought enters her mind, not that she minds. She just doesn’t have a filter. And is very eager to do the activity with you still. Still, her openness doesn’t mean she’ll be normal about it. I could see her making quite a ruckus about sneaking off with you (not even to show off and let others know, she’s just like that plus you gave her a lot of positive emotions to process) so your little skinny dipping session will be anything but a secret. Bonus is that for a good while after you ask, you could swear her cheeks turned a semi-permanent shade of pink. The shoes stay on of course. Even when you question her about it, she’ll respond like you’re the one being silly for expecting anything else

Again with sinners being anything but normal, we have Sinclair. He’s another one who will ask the same question of „…Naked?” But in his case it’s not prefixed with excitement and joy. Not that he wouldn’t want to do it. He just didn’t expect you to propose that and even if you did, he’s still a bit surprised that you proposed that to him. He just simply… wasn’t expecting this. And with the insight I have from reading his book, I would guess that the whole concept would bring him more stress than joy. First of all, he doesn’t like himself all that much, so the perspective of stripping in front of somebody he likes… is anxiety inducing. Besides, despite keeping it all well hidden and marinating in his brain, his mind - more often than not - leads him uh. Places. He starts thinking about things he… really feels bad for thinking in relation to his favourite coworker. About your body and the connotations of your proposition. Lewd possibilities cross his mind and with each one he feels more and more awful. This is much worse than the ambiguously wet dreams plaguing his mind (as they do in the book), since at this point he at least doesn’t realise who the motherly figure in them is. But he knows you. And he feels like he shouldn’t be thinking about you in that way. You’d find that disgusting, find him disgusting. You probably already do. And he wouldn’t blame you for that. In the past (again, in the book), it took one lewd comment about a local shopkeeper from his schoolmates to get him flustered to the point he gave up on coming to the store. And he’s not much better now. A huge part of him, one that dislikes both the inside and outside of his own self, is screaming at him to decline. But there is something in the way you look at him so kindly, waiting for his response, that pushes him to ignore his innate instinct to run. You swear you could see cogs turning in his head and steam rising (sorry, that metaphor was uh, not purposefully crafted) as he mulled everything over to finally agree. But not before asking if you’re sure. I mean… you did ask. But he’s so stressed, he would rather make sure that you mean what you’re saying. The last thing he’d want is to make a fool of himself in front of you. You reassure him that your proposition still stands and you meant it. However, when push comes to shove he probably would still, albeit apologetically, ask if he could maybe stay in his shirt and boxers. Especially after seeing you strip. With a lot of encouragement you could maybe get him to give that up, but it would take a lot and he would be… rather guarded. Either way, as time in the lake goes on, he would relax a tiny bit and it would be fun. Mostly staying emerged in water though. Give him time. And uh. Don’t look down when you two get out of the water. We all know what is happening there as his eyes nearly drill holes in your figure, but I think he would actually die permanently if you acknowledged his hhh. Reaction

Rodya is much more chill with it. She gets excited right away and praises you for the good idea. When you tell her that it would be just the two of you and that she was the first person you thought of when the idea popped into your head, she grins. Well obviously she was, who’s more fun on this bus than her~ despite the self assured words and tone, there is a bit of pride as she says it. She proposes to make it a little adventure, to sneak out and make it a fun secret between the two of you. Definitely not because she’s a bit salty that you were the one to come up with the idea. I mean she likes you, she “should” come with something special to add here to impress you. Though it’s a bit reassuring that you thought that she was the best person to share this moment with. She makes the whole event ten times better, coming up with a way to sneak off unnoticed. Even if you are concerned about Vergilius finding out, she waves you off. She’s been in deeper shit than this, no need to worry. She has a way with words, as she claims. As you two strip, she teases you a bit and shamelessly takes off her clothes, fighting against herself not to show just how much she’s seeking out your starstruck gaze. Again, she tells you to relax as she watches you strip, letting slip a comment or two that are bound to rattle your brain for the next week. But for now you two enter the water. She yelps a bit and complains that it’s colder than she’d like. Overplaying the act a little bit, though you can definitely tell she’s cold. If you’re taking the temperature worse, she’d comment on it, saying how it’s crawl who the ‘cultured’ folk is. ‘Lowly ones are too used to freezing colds, it’s very easy to see~’ she says about ‘commoners’ in a playful but matter-of-factly tone. You could easily imagine Heathcliff contemplating drowning her on the spot on a bad day if he was present. But there’s no one around. Only you and her. And despite her poorly masked insecurities, this little activity you share is sure making her feel special

I firmly believe that asking Outis to skinny dip would leave you more flustered than her. Maybe she’d be surprised at first. Taken aback. You could see something in her demeanour shift as she lets out some semi-flustered explanation that it could be amateurish considering your “service” to the company. But she has a soft spot for you. So, after asking Dante (yes, she has to ask them, it’s the ‘professional way to conduct such procedures’) she informs you at what time she’ll be waiting for you. The initial surprise has worn off and from then on, oh, you’re cooked. She’d strip in a very matter of factly fashion and when she stands in front of you in all her glory, it’s hard not to blush. At the slightest hesitance she informs you that this is nothing to be embarrassed about. Her tone both confident and a little… affectionate? You could swear there was a glint of warmth in her eyes when she said it. Genuine warmth shining through her collected exterior. Times at war are (you don’t dare to correct that with a ‘were’) tough and back in her day she had seen contless soldiers in such situations. This is nothing to be ashamed about. Didn’t you request this bonding time between the two of you? It’s a good way to bring you two closer. She proclaims so with confidence, but as her words hit her, she adverts her eyes and adds that it’s good for teamwork. So what are you waiting for? It’s hard to disagree or prolong the ordeal, so soon enough both of you get into the water. She sways effortlessly along with the current and for once you can see her expression soften a little as she goes along with your attempts at small talk. Sure, that civil, personal part of her is a little rusty, but it glimmers though the cracks as she recounts some little facts and situations from the passing days. It’s hard to let her guard down. But as she watches you, submerged in the water beside her, she feels like it’s not impossible to feel something else than a calculated need for survival

As you ask Ryoshu to indulge you in your request, she takes her cigarette out of her mouth and quirks her eyebrow at you. ‚What For?’ She questions you with amusement. No matter your reasoning, she ponders for a second, snickering a little. It’s… sort of cute you want to involve her in your plans like that. Especially since it’s a bit of a bold ask, all things considered. Finally, a smirk plays on her lips as her eyes travel up and down your figure and she replies. ‚Alright, Why Not’. She’s not bothered by the whole concept, though your daring request is for sure positively interesting to her, as I said. You two set the time (well, you do, she’s chill to go along with anything really) and she tells you to lead the way. She’s not too bothered to just walk out even if you want to go during company time. She’s curious to see where it’ll go. Only when you two did yourselves of your uniforms does she change her demeanour a bit. She’s a woman of the arts after all. And there’s nothing shameful in her gaze as it drags across your body, noting every curve and scar. She definitely has eyes of an artist. And in that moment, you feel like the finest muse she had ever had (which… could be concerning considering the type of art she dabbles in, but this time her thoughts are definitely going different places than gore. For the most part). She’s fun to spend time in the water with. Witty and attentive, she gazes at the scenery around, though each time her eyes end up on you again. Albeit she’s an enigmatic woman, it’s very clear that this experience made you two somewhat closer

The real issue when asking Faust to go skinny dipping with you is to get a straightforward answer from her. Or just any answer that would tell you what she’s thinking. But it’s Faust we’re talking about. So, when you ask her if she’d be down to go skinny dipping with you after Dante officially ends the work day (you know she wouldn’t agree if this wasn’t the case) she tells you that ‘all employees are permitted to use the next twelve hours as they please, to rest, use the restroom or destress’. She says it as if she was stating the obvious. Well, she is, in a sense, but it doesn’t mean she’s making herself clear in this context. She’s doing anything but that. After you press her a bit and explains, that her response was, indeed, a “yes”. Although a very faint smile is tugging on her lips, as she asks you about the time and for the briefest of times you could swear that her (usually very distant) gaze settled on you. Still avoiding the eyes, but as it falls below your face, you wonder if it’s about something different than her habit of avoiding looking at faces this time. With how enigmatic she is, she isn’t giving you much to go off on in terms of decoding her thoughts. Even when she shows up at the time you two agreed on (seems like she appeared just as the clock struck the exact minute, but after getting to know her, that doesn’t surprise you at all). Gracefully, her hands work their way around zippers and buttons until the last item of clothing slides off of her body, only to be folded and set aside for later. Her soft, pale skin seems radiant and she waits for you to rid yourself on the uniform as well before emerging herself in water beside you. When you look at her, her eyes barely leave the surface, tracing the lines of the ripples her movement makes against the current. However, each time you look away, you can almost feel the burning gaze that settles on your figure and takes it all in

A gentle, happy smile settles on Hong Lu’s lips as you present him with the idea. How curious! Is this some sort of a ritual or a pastime poor people have? He would love to do it, he never had the chance to~. First being hungry and now taking clothes off and getting into dirty water for fun, this job is giving him so many new experiences! He asks what the purpose is. Of being naked and swimming in some (probably at least slightly contaminated) water. You didn’t suspect he knew about the horrid state of things outside of his bubble, such as water being bad/polluted, but his state of surprise seems to be contagious when you find yourself wondering about the degree to which his ignorance is a choice. As your expression clearly changes at his words, he gives you a lazy, quizzical smile. His questions need to be answered and I, dear reader, wish you good luck because you will need all of it to explain to him why you want to be in the water - alone and without clothes - with him specifically. After he seems satisfied (though you’re sure the last one or two questions were asked in an effort to fluster you), he tells you to get him when you’re ready to depart and head towards the destination of your ‘curious activity’. Once there, he gently pulls off his clothes with a bit of excitement, clearly looking forward to taking part in your plan. Before you get a chance to lead him into the murky liquid, he happily shows you his folded stack of clothes. They look… a bit unconventional in the way he had put them, but he acts with such glee that it’s hard to stay indifferent to his achievement. He tells you that he had other people handle such things before, but since that’s a thing of the past, he had learned to do it on his own. He’s very happy to share this new skill with you. It’s after that, that you two finally go thought with your plan fully. Shivering a bit, he asks if the water will be heated up. It’s up to you if you want to inform him that it’s not how natural bodies of water work or spare him such information and assure him that the longer you two stay emerged, the warmer he’ll feel (omitting that it won’t be due to any manmade mechanisms). All in all, even something you wouldn’t personally call “and exceptional experience” is like a brand new adventure with Hong Lu by your side. His musing and eager inquiries never let you drift off or grow bored. And if you’re unsure about how stimulating a chat with him can be, I assure you that his body will provide a whole array of visual stimuli as well, all on display for your eyes to explore

Next 3 couldn’t have been written without the help of my friend (you, dear anon haha^^) and I hope I didn’t disappoint~

If you were hoping for a distinct reaction from Heathcliff, you are in luck because it is indeed, definitely strong. When you ask him if he would like to skinny dip with you (either because you like the idea and want company or have just heard of the concept and want to try it out, having picked him as the best suited companion) he looks a bit… taken aback. Sure, he can be loud and most definitely wouldn’t categorise him as shy, but he’s also not blind to the implications of you offering to strip in front of him like it’s some casual activity (it’s not to him, definitely). There’s a lot of things left over from his past and even now, it clearly shows in his approach to intimacy. Not only was he ‘undesirable’ before, he had grown to expect to not have his desires met easily and without fighting for each instance of genuine affection (such as his… favourite coworker offering to be so intimate). In his head it’s still more easy to accept being The Other, the one who pleases those he cares about, someone who constantly tries to earn each instance of affection. Despite his… quite innate state of emotional constipation, he is fond of you and by extension- thinks quite highly of you. For someone who had it so reinforced from an early age that he is below the good and pure people (well, especially one person), it makes sense for you to just be your lovely self instead of initiating anything on you own, directing your attention and intimacy towards him so blatantly. Besides that he uh… well, he is all bark no bite in a sense that he didn’t have a lot of instances where he could get experience. At best he had something like this happen once or twice when he was much younger. Both the way he is and the lingering idea in the back of his head of ‘saving himself’ prevented him from familiarising himself with more. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if the question came from someone else. But you get him worked up on daily over much less than skinny dipping. Heck, even when you look at him a bit too intensely during a bickering session he looses track for a moment each time without fail. But he wouldn’t be Heathcliff if he unpacked all of that. So instead your question will get a very annoyed ‚what for’. I mean. Your intentions aren’t that clear to him, like I said, he feels more natural when he’s chasing an idea, than when his desires become something writhing reach, something he doesn’t have to work for. Whatever you tell him to explain your request, it won’t be completely understandable to him because of that. But in the end a strange pull he feels on the inside (again, he’s not unpacking that) pushes him to grumble out something that is almost in agreement to your question. In turn he spends the remaining time being filled with way more tension that what would be considered reasonable. He’s not snappy, but something about the way he holds himself is very different. So much so, that Rodya calls it out at one point. Only then does he let his full annoyance out and while a few sinners muse on what could have set him off like that again, you’re left to wonder if you were the reason for his strange behaviour. He’s stuck between snapping at your coworkers and spacing out. His mind going back to the plans you two made. Each time, he finds that his gaze landed on you again and lets out a frustrated huff. As you two finally depart on your off time, he walks right by your side. His eyebrows knitted together and his eyes looking somewhere off to the side. On the inside he is torn. A part of him wishes to rush towards the body of water and the other part tells him to run back to the bus. In the end he simply walks shoulder in w shoulder with you. Saying nothing until you two arrive at the place. Something stops him from undressing and compels him to instead aim his gaze at you for the first time since you guys departed. It’s then that he finds himself stuck, watching you slip out of your uniform, fabric sliding off of your form 1/2

Hungrily he notes each soft curve and sharp edge that makes up your form, his eyes taking in all the ways in which light and shadow engulf your body, creating a sight he realises now, he yearned so hard to see until now. No beauty mark, no hair, no scar escape his sight. When you turn to him, you could swear that his pronounced chest is rising up and down way pre intensely than it has any business doing so. Heath doesn’t know what to do with himself for a moment. Seeing you so bare, so purposefully there - it makes all the repressed urges inside him turn into a devouring fire that leaves his body sweating and muscles tense. It somehow feels both wrong and cathartic to have someone be here with him so wholly, with such intent. This is not like fleeting glances and meek brushing of the skin that he was told over and over he was undeserving of. This here doesn’t feel wrong or undeserved. Whatever you meant by your invitation here, he can feel that you meant it. He can’t think of what he did to deserve to be chosen out of all the coworkers you two are close to. In all fairness this is so unusual because he is sure that he did not do anything. He didn’t have to dress up nicely, speak differently, act more “civilised” (we… won’t unpack that here hhh). No amount of favours and flowers caused you to trust him enough to bare yourself like that. Somehow, you just did on your own accord. Undressing takes him a second, all those notions racing in his head, having a hard time getting through over his much more thirsty thoughts as he is battling a hard time of his own. The mere fact that his is not sporting a full on erection is more of a miracle than whatever Dante does to bring him back from the dead after battles. Finally you two are naked and if he wasn’t as worked up over you, he’d get an ego boost from the way you looked at him as well. As strong as his self restraint is, even the cold water can’t keep his member flaccid once you two get into the water and he looks at the way droplets explore your body, dripping down each time you emerge from under the surface. They shine and shimmer on your soft skin before falling down and it’s safe to say he’s getting more worked up with each second. It’s even more evident when you try to hold a conversation. Although you will have to deal with his frustrated demeanour and lack of focus, he still makes it worth a while and there’s nothing to regret once your little adventure comes to an end 2/2

As soon as the question exits your mouth, Ishmael cocks her head at you. It that really what you want to do? She also asks you ‘what for?’ Though she’s certainly not as worked up about it as Heathcliff was. There’s no doubt that she has experience with bodies of water and she is the first person to inform you that bathing without any clothes is about the least practical thing you can do. Of course, jumping in with your full attire on wouldn’t work well either, but a minimal amount of clothing is actually very beneficial. She’s not judging you, but don’t expect her not to question what kind of ‘fun’ there is in skinny dipping. So it’s a whole thing and people like to partake in it? Doesn’t make much sense from a practical standpoint, but as you explain to her why it’s actually the whole point to take your clothes off when you two do it, a little smile tugs on her lips. Perhaps she does find your methods of seeking alone time… unique, but she’s not oblivious to the fact that this is you initiating an intimate moment with her. The length to which you’re going to convince her of the vital part of being naked during skinny dipping makes it hard for her not to point it out. She asks you one or two final questions that are solely spoken to fluster you a bit, but ultimately she’s open to try this out. It’s Ish that insists on setting the time and follows through to a minute, waiting to be lead by you towards your set destination. As you undress, she checks out the body of water, humming to herself and giving you updates on her finds. When she’s satisfied that no harm could be caused by your little activity, she turns to face you. Though she acts very casual, her cheeks and ears come close to matching her hair as she eyes you up and down. After a brief pause she begins to take her own clothes off. The sudden change of temperatures leaves you shivering as you two go deeper in, but Ishmael acts unphased. She notes that she did warn you that your fun adventure could turn unpleasant and lead to you catching a cold. With a small sign, she swims closely to you. Body heat transfers underwater just as easily as it does on the surface. Thus, she proposes that you two entangle your bodies closely to keep you from suffering the cruel coolness of the liquid you were so eager to submerge yourself into. Her strong arms wrap themselves around your frame and your chests press together. Though decently athletic, she’s soft and definitely warm. She holds you until it’s time to get out, making sure you don’t freeze. At least that’s the reason she gives you ;3

Right from the start, though calm and unassuming in his demeanour, Yi Sang would be pretty receptive to your idea. All nervousness you might have felt disappear as soon as he responds to your question. He might be a little quiet but it doesn’t mean he’s prudish or judgy, quite the opposite actually. So all he does is nod in agreement and ask what would be the most convenient time for you two to depart. After that, if you are vigilant enough, you might feel his eyes on you a decent amount of times. At one point you can even hear Rodya question why he’s ’smiling to himself like that’ though his answer it too quiet to decipher (and probably a bit too ambiguous to get a proper read on him). In the end he approaches you as your working hours come to an end, asking you if you’re ready to go. He’s so casual about it that it’s hard not to feel at ease, even though his veiled eagerness is definitely a bit flustering. On the way there he engages in pleasant musings with you, listening to your thoughts about the latest happenings or life in general and gladly sharing his own. He’s a bit more relaxed now, whether it’s because he’s off the clock and away from the crowded bus or because he’s speaking with you. He grows a bit more flustered when he sees you take your clothes off and avoids eye contact more than usual when he sees you looking at his naked form, but still manages not to make things too awkward. All in all it’s not a bad time and despite being somewhat a distant person, he is definitely staying pretty close to you physically, sneaking glances each time you gaze at the water you two are submerged in

With Meursault I can’t imagine a scenario that wouldn’t be a bit silly and surreal because that man really just considers private affections and urges to be not a part of his work contract and thus fails to see the purpose in carrying them out. I firmy believe even getting morning wood is a conscious choice to him. It’s not in his contract, thus he refuses to succumb to it. However, he does value your input. Whether it’s affection or ‘simple appreciation for your efficiency in the workplace’ he is willing to hear you out. It doesn’t mean you won’t have to explain and validate skinny dipping as a pastime, both in excruciating length and detail. You might have to get Dante involved, asking them to please issue an official statement allowing you to depart in purpose of decreasing stress and thus increasing productivity. Yes, it has to be phrased like that. If you get your dear (and confused) manager to comply, Meursault won’t argue. It’s not that he doesn’t want to go. But his wants are not relevant. He is an employee first, after all. It shows in the way he completely disregards any of his personal feelings on the matter. Just hums quietly and agrees. If he is flustered or nervous, it doesn’t show. The best sign you will get from him is that he seems pretty receptive, all factors considered. Another sign that he might be a bit more interested than he is lettting on is that, after your work hours end, he heads towards you with such purpose that one could assume that Vergilius himself had ordered him to. With little to no shame he says ‘the work day ended. We can go through with your plan to go skinny dipping now’. It’s said in front of everyone and you can be sure that at least a few of your fellow coworkers will have a blast bringing it up and teasing you for the next week or two. But it is a worry you will have to mull over later as, just like Meursault said, it is time for you two to leave and head towards your destination. As you lead him towards the water he stays silent and promptly begins taking his clothes off when you two stop. Even in such an intimate action he is very stoic and graceful, leaving his uniform folded by the shore and offering to fold yours as well. Without any shame in his naked, exposed self, he submerges himself. If he is cold, there’s no indication of that. It is after hours though and if you are attentive enough you will see his eyes trailing across your figure. He is yet another sinner that, if you find yourself shivering, will offer to transfer some of his warmth by standing and holding you closely. The action seems almost formal, but it’s doubtful he would propose such thing if it wasn’t you. Silence with him is comfortable. In case you initiate a conversation though, he will respond, carrying the talk effortlessly and casually. Or well, as much as his usual uptight demeanour allowed him to

There is no other way to describe the state you put Dante in other than ‘sheer panic’. For a split second they even start to wonder if they should be getting into the water at all, given their mechanical head. Only to realise that this is no different than the showers they take and will not jeopardise their life or ability to bring sinners back. If it was physically possible, you would definitely see more than one droplet of sweat rolling down their face as they look around and fiddle with their fingers. Suddenly it feels like their limbs had grown too long and their body is all wrong. They shift under your gaze, making a few surprised sounds. If you were hoping to make your poor manager a flustered mess, you sure got it. Finally they ask <is that even allowed?>. And I mean. They are the manager, so it’s not like you’re the one to tell them. They get flustered at that realisation even more. Muttering something that almost could be considered a coherent confirmation they look mortified with their own decision making skills. I mean. They are used to being mocked and used by the sinners, disregarded as a weakling by most (and that doesn’t even cover the way they get treated by those who can’t hear their speech). So it’s surprising that out of everyone you could invite, you felt the most comfortable undressing in front of them. Sure, you make a point to treat them well on the daily, but they always assumed you didn’t think very highly of them, that it was pure courtesy. The more they think about your proposition, the more anxious they get. They like you. A lot. But your question could mean that you are more fond of them than they initially assumed. And they like you so so much. Oftentimes your interactions make their day, making them feel better even after the worst of days. But they always thought it was one sided (why wouldn’t it be? You’re so lovely and they are, as of now, not even the bare minimum. Just some incompetent ‘resurrection machine’ with no memories of the past and ‘questionable humanity’). If this is some sign that you’re sending, if you really like them, they would feel bad for giving into their selfish urges. You deserve someone stronger. Someone more capable. They get so worked up over that, that when you two finally get to it and it’s time to undress they are hit with a new wave of anxiety. Once again their whole body feels so inadequate and out of place. As you stand there naked they can’t help but shrink into themselves the more your beauty hits them. They don’t even remember what is considered attractive. They know their head is definitely a turn off but as they stand with their arms folded tightly like a shield, they start to wonder if any part of them is even remotely appealing by common beauty standards. You have to snap them out of their half horny-half self deprecating gaze and lead them towards the water by their hand, making their stomach fill with butterflies. It certainly takes a while for them to relax, though they do their best to respond every time you say something. All whilst desperately reminding themselves that you aren’t able to see where their eyes are looking 0///0

Gregor is no less caught by surprise and the half grumble-half squeak he makes is definite proof. Your surprising question is definitely at least a bit dreadful. Unlike in the the scenario above, Greg is more so concerned with the physical aspect of things. He treads carefully, trying to gage if you’re not making fun of him, mocking his appearance like so many have done before. Of course, up to this point you were nothing but kind, but after being let down and made to feel lesser by everyone, there is a (rather large) part of him that wonders if you’re not about to join the rest in reminding him just how much of a lowly gross looking pest he is. His suspicion is not very subtle, so you would easily catch on. I mean, after having witnessed so many times just how awfully people spoke to him/about him, you wouldn’t struggle to, at least partially, understand the source of his approach. All you can do is be kind and hope he can read your true intent (since he won’t verbalise his exact fear, he doesn’t like to bring up his modifications if he doesn’t have to). Surprisingly, it somewhat works because he reluctantly agrees to at least try. If he changes his mind, he can just stay on the shore. That kind of setup does make things a bit better for him. If push comes to shove he figures he can just opt out, you’re not putting much pressure on him. Still, he sighs deeply and sighs, muttering something about how he ‘should be smarter at his age’. Please, that man is acting as if he’s on his deathbed whilst being 35, someone talk some sense into him…. Well, either way he follows through in his promise and goes with you at your agreed time. When someone comments on you two ‘sneaking off’ it does nothing to make the situation any more loaded. The closer you two get to the body of water, the more visibly stressed he is. Instead of engaging in his usual small talk, he stays silent as he often does when he gets reminded of his painful past. If the walk was any longer you could safely assume that he would go through his whole pack of cigarettes, if not two. He sort of catches himself spacing out by the end and tries to act like everything’s fine (I mean, in the improbable - in his eyes - scenario that you just genuinely like him, it is a pretty bad look for him to be so silent and gloomy), but there is something heavy in the air. As you reach the shore, he stands to the side. Piece by piece your uniform uncovers your naked body. Only when you’re fully undressed does he start to contemplate yet another issue that could put him in a horrific predicament. While a decent chunk of other sinners, in they were in his place, would be most worried about getting a very obvious boner, he is too preoccupied with just now beginning to stress over the sudden upsurge of strong emotion making his body transform or act on its own. And there is a definite upsurge of emotions when he lets his gaze settle on your figure. He almost doesn’t hear you when you ask if he wants to join you. He’s somewhere between flustered and worried, looking anywhere but at you whilst telling you all the ways this could go bad. Hurting you. Scaring you. Making you repulsed. That last one he doesn’t say out loud but it weights on him nonetheless. Eventually you could maybe convince him. Pressure doesn’t work but letting him know that he has a choice and you are simply glad he accompanied you is going to go a long way. Something something being denied autonomy his whole life. Or something. Aaanyways. That might just get him to join you in the water, after having taken off his clothes as well. He… doesn’t like his looks in general. As a friend of mine put it - he figures the arm at least takes the attention away from everything else. Ouch. But undressing in front of you is a huge step! Kind of has a what are we????? Ringing in his head and making his face red but he won’t say that hhhh. Only when you two go in deeper (he’s very actively trying to submerge himself in the water, though he wishes he was a bit more secure if only to have you above the surface) does he chuckle nervously

2/2 and informs you that he cannot swim. At all. You're happy to learn more about him as always but also that kind of information would be handy to know beforehand. He still doesn't trust his modifications not to act up if your naked body were to get any closer to him, so you two stay a reasonable distance away but refrain from getting ant deeper. As he relaxes a tiny bit, you get to experience his uninterrupted yapping and forget about the earlier worries for a bit. His subtle cynicism shines through his goodnatured jokes and comments and for the first tine in a while he gets to relax a bit. It might take him long to let his guard down fully but it's hard not to smile seeing him at least a bit less beaten down. All i can guarantee is that he will absolutely go over this adventure again and again in his head and for days to come will get flustered in the most random moments. But out of all the outcomes, it's not so bad to have that effect on him, is it? ;3

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Okay, so in one of the comments that you replied to in your “gold rush AU! Konig”, you stated that she’s heads over heels in love with him, but apparently hasn’t shown/told him yet. And even though he believes that she doesn’t love him, he’s still so in love with her and just wants to make her happy. (That has got to pull at her heartstrings because this odd but kind man simply just loves her.)

Would you be willing to do a next part? Showing that she was just resisting what she knew along and that was that she does love and only wants him. Because although he went about marrying her immediately instead of taking the time to get to know each other and even though he’s from an European background, who is a giant with an accent and working to hit gold to support her financially, he’s still been nothing but kind, loving, and can apparently rock her world in bed! (Basically she was resisting in giving in into admitting she loves him because she had this WHOLE mindset/vision about how it was ALL gonna go down but since it didn’t go the way she thought it would, she was resisting his love for the “fairytale” version she wanted.)

Eventually she finally confesses that she does love him but had to get to that conclusion slowly on her own terms. This of course makes him so happy and he feels so blessed to gain his wife’s love; he once again promises that he will do everything in his powers to ensure she’s happy for all the rest of the days of her life. Which he does because some time later he hits it big in gold which lets him upgrade the “shack” they’re living in to convert it into an actual home for them to spend the rest of their lives together (with future children).

And he asks her of what she wants him to buy for her since he can afford to get it for her, only for her to ask for a new and bigger (so he fits comfortably) reinforced bed; because she wants him to be able to rest properly in a comfortable bed AND she doesn’t want to hear it creak as he plows her into nirvana/heaven. This of course causes him to blue screen but once he reboots his brain, he promises that he’ll get the best bed that will not only support their nightly activities but be very comfortable for both of them.

It’s only once they get the new bed and use/“break it in”/“christen” it for the first time does he finally gets her pregnant on that first night.

Oh, your writings are just so good! 😊

Oh I love the bed scenario and König wanting to spoil her and the story about how he got her pregnant for the first time (you can’t tell me these two won’t have a small flock of annoying little kids running around eventually) so much! 😭💞

And I actually wrote a little something for this because people were putting me in jail for the roaring angst of the 1st part so here’s how these silly pookies got to their happily ever after:

Our pompous little mail order bride is, in fact, so in love with König that it’s not even funny.

It's so bad that she looks out the window and sighs as she waits for him to come home... Scoots away the minute she catches him in the horizon, of course. She has better things to do than wait by the window sill like some wanton prostitute!

She whimpers like one, however, when the door slams shut and her husband comes to grope her from behind, telling her he wants to take her on the table (there’s food there and they were supposed to eat first, what a horrible man!) Not to talk of getting wet just from the sight of him looming over her, she has no objections with getting spread on the sturdy planks for taking. She should probably be thankful that the dinner table is made of solid wood and is not some delicate piece hauled here from Europe because it could never take the brute force of König’s advances...

After they're both sated and done, he dares to dip his finger in one of the cast iron pots filled to the brim with stew. Has a taste while still inside her, only chuckles to himself when she furrows her brows from how uncivilised he is. What kind of a man barges in his home like a burglar, takes his wife on the table, then tastes the hearty stew like it’s only normal for a man to be hungry after plowing his lady until they're both shaking? Even the bed is about to break at night, these pieces of furniture have done nothing wrong to this man and yet he treats them like they're nothing but disposable bits of wood.

His lack of manners never ceases to astonish her; he even tries to give her a taste of the food too, and laughs when she pushes him away and straightens her skirts, how is she supposed to walk around with his seed running down her thighs? All the pretty things he got her from town are in need of a wash already, but she still hums a soft happy tune while looking at her reflection in the mirror, donning the pretty hat he just brought her along with coffee and flour. (She thinks he can’t hear or see her being visibly happy, but König takes mental notes every time her eyes shine a little brighter from his gifts. She's not lacking anything, that's for sure, and isn’t it nice that he remembered how she looked at that silly little hat when they walked by her favorite store…? Anything his princess wants, she shall have!)

Years and years of lonely digging in this harsh land far away from home have made her husband think that no woman could ever want him unless he buys their love, and she does enjoy the pretty little frills he brings her as offerings. But what would kill her is if he knew she had actual feelings for him… This was supposed to be an arrangement, a marriage between two adults, not a romantic passionate affair! That sort of thing only happens in books, that's the first thing she learned when she came here.

He should have courted her properly first, but now it's all ruined, there's no excitement and intensity... Except that her heart is always hammering in her chest, she feels like a trapped bird flitting inside her corset. She's always flustered when he goes under her skirts, her chest is about to collapse in on itself when she sees him flash a smile her way, carry her more silk and demurely apologize that the wrappings are dirty because of his hands, kiss her neck after copulation like it's the holiest place on earth...

And God Almighty, what would this man think of her if she confessed her love to him? He would probably laugh and think she’s a harlot who’s in desperate need of his cock, that she's indecent and impure…

Luckily, the brute is so stupid that he doesn’t see the way his little princess–as he now calls her–looks up at him when he traces her bottom lip with his thumb. She’s relatively sure he doesn’t notice the tiny gasps just before she comes, the helpless, adoring stares she shoots at him right after, because that glassy, worshipping stare of his own is only born of lust, that’s for sure.

He can’t see her figure flash in the window when he’s walking towards home, she’s made sure of that…

Or has she?

The man is dumb, but he’s not a total simpleton, even if his eternal sadness is slowly turning into a teasing, an even hungrier form of love. She fears he will simply devour her one of these days if he knew how deeply in love with him she is as well...

And she fears herself even more than she fears him. Didn’t the priest warn about exactly this kind of simple-minded, wanton lust in his last sermon? She was always taught that marriage is supposed to be about companionship and genial living together, not about sweaty, toe curling, mind numbing copulation.

They’re fornicating like animals in the little shack she has grown so fond of, shy to the changes he’s talking about every day since he struck some large gold vein. He openly fantasizes about getting them a large house, a small manor, even, and she knows it’s all just for her because this man is content with very little… So little, that he accepts any small crumb of affection she gives him like it’s an entire rain of manna from heaven.

And it’s only because she’s ashamed that she can’t show her true feelings for him. The gentlemen of the city now feel like fancy peacocks compared to this burly man who’s not afraid to get his hands dirty and his dick wet. Those men look delicate and boring and ridiculous next to the hairy giant who’s forearms she stares in the evenings like they’re her own personal cancan show.

It’s crazy, how she looks at him like he’s nothing but a piece of meat – are women even supposed to feel this way? She should say her prayers, because her foreign husband looks like a god while sharpening his ax by the fire, with slow, deliberate movements, the trembling hands finding a smooth, strong dance only when they’re wielding a pickaxe or a whetstone or a knife.

He catches her staring once, her frightful stare big and helpless in the flickering flames, and he gives her a sad, longing smile in return.

“I’m sorry, princess,” he gruffs softly. “Ich weiss… I know I should shave...”

Her head gives an involuntary shake, minimal and shy, because she doesn’t want him to shave. She adores that coarse stubble that leaves her skin red and irritated, she loves how he looks when he has so much going on in his life that he doesn’t have time to groom himself.

“No…?” He asks hesitantly, straightening a little on the chair that’s really only a piece of log. “You like it like this...?”

She nods. Shyly again, and just once, while her eyes drift on his lips.

It’s intimate, how the silence envelops them with both tension and grace. It’s all she can give right now, and he knows it, knows also that this whole exchange is basically a love confession. Her affection, her want, her dedication and surrender soar and swell all at once, and he can see it... All of it.

He rises, and abandons the ax, his softening stare never leaving hers. He walks to her like a gentleman, like he's Mr. Rochester himself, like she was Ms. Eyre – although she doesn’t want to be Jane Eyre and she doesn’t want him to be a dark, handsome gentleman. She wants him to be just as he is, the stranger from the North who works hard and loves even harder, who picks her up like she’s an angel and not a lady.

“Let’s get you to bed, hmm?”

His gaze is so soft, it’s starting to relax into some knowledge she has in her foolishness betrayed.

But it’s alright… Everything’s just as it should be.

She wraps her hands around his neck and whispers, “Yes,” and the smile that tugs at his lips finally melts into one of those I knew it smiles he sometimes wears when he brings her something nice from the town.

He doesn’t push her to reveal more information about how much she loves his stubble, but he does make her scream it out into the warm cottage air as he goes down between her legs. She doesn’t want to know what the local priest would say about this: a man making his mark on the insides of her thighs with that scraping beard, how he makes her core throb with his ever-hungry mouth. She doesn’t even care.

It’s a paradise and an inferno, where he’s sending her to, and who knew a brutish digger from some distant land could suddenly be so eloquent with his tongue? Who knew a man could do things like these to a woman...? Who knew married life could be like this?

“You liked that, didn’t you, princess,” he asks when he’s done with her, and holds her surprisingly gentle when she’s still shaking and squirming softly on the bed. Not God, not even the Devil, could cloud the full blown affection in her eyes. She’s in love – it’s not just lust, but love she feels for this man, and she feels like a fool for not recognizing she had gold in her hands all along.

“Yes,” she says, then smiles, then laughs, because it’s fairly obvious that she can’t speak those words even if she wanted to. He wrecked her so completely...

“I told you I’d make you happy, Sonnenschein.”

He smiles a little, looks down at her like she’s nothing but a baby who finally stopped her eternal crying.

“Oh I’m more than happy,” she says, this time tears clouding her vision, happy tears born from being free from years of imprisonment. He doesn’t strike her as the kind of man who cries, but there’s a faint glow in his eyes as well, a shimmer that both takes her in and pulls her under. This is something they don’t talk about in church... This is a thing they never write about in books.

She lays her hand on him, on the coarse cheek that is now slightly wet from a single tear.

“You’re crying,” she whispers, because her voice wouldn’t carry the weight of her words at this point.

“Ja…? Well... I’m happy too,” he explains, with a shortness of breath and a confusion to his voice.

He blinks the rest of it away, but the sweet moment stays, lingers on until she draws him into a kiss – another thing they never talk about in novels, a woman kissing a man – and she tastes both him and her on his lips, how well he loved her, and when he moans slightly from her reciprocating that love, she holds him closer, closer, closer… Until he shivers too.

[steddieas-shegoes]

terrible twos

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'christmas'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated m | 702 words | cw: referenced sex | tags: established relationship, fluff, christmas cookies, the awful stage of toddlerhood that parents barely survive

2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣

“Daddy! Up!” Sawyer is making grabby hands at Eddie, and Eddie can’t do anything but give in. His hands may be busy rolling cookie dough, but there’s nothing that would stop him from holding his son.

The terrible twos hit early and they hit hard.

Steve insists Rory never had it quite like this, but at barely a year and a half old, Sawyer is always one ‘no’ away from a meltdown. He’s been very independent, and with that independence, he hasn’t wanted to be held unless he’s hurt.

If he’s asking to come up now, Eddie’s gonna do it.

“Cookie?” He asks and Eddie shakes his head.

“Not yet, little dude. It’s still gotta bake in the oven.”

Sawyer’s lip pouts out. “Peas?”

He hears Steve and Rory in the next room, probably playing NHL since that was the gift she wanted most this year. He won’t interrupt them, but Sawyer might if he starts screaming about not having a cookie.

“You can have the first one when it’s done cooking,” Eddie tries to appease him.

Not that he gives in at tantrums. Quite the opposite.

It’s just that it’s Christmas and Sawyer isn’t old enough to understand that he can’t eat raw cookie dough, so this tantrum would be kind of understandable.

“Daddy peas,” Sawyer says again, reaching for the dough on the counter. “Cookie mine?”

“You can pick which one you want when I cut them and you can have it as soon as it’s out of the oven,” Eddie allows. He hopes that’s enough,

“Cookie mine now?”

“Not now. In a tiny bit,” Eddie tries to distract him with the cookie cutters. “Pick a shape. We have Christmas trees…and candy canes…”

“Cookie!”

Eddie laughs, tries to keep his composure at what is surely escalating into a code red situation.

“It’ll be a cookie in any shape, silly goose. What about a nutcracker?” Eddie holds up the shape, but realizes it’s too late.

He’s lost.

“Down! Dada!” Sawyer is kicking his legs to get down and Eddie lets him. But he isn’t going to let him interrupt Steve’s time with Rory, not over this.

“How about a different treat?” Eddie tries, offering the first thing he sees: a piece of chocolate from someone’s stocking. “It’s got caramel!”

Sawyer pauses, thinks about it, shakes his head. His little curls bounce around almost comically as his face starts to get red.

“How about a candy cane?” Eddie offers instead, desperate.

“You wanna push buttons to shoot the puck?” Rory asks from the doorway, Steve right behind her with a knowing look.

“Shoot da puck? Sawyer shoot?” Sawyer asks, distracted enough that Eddie can breathe out.

God, having a toddler with the same temperament he had as a kid is hard. He feels like sending Wayne a fruit basket, maybe a blank check with his signature on it.

“Up!” He runs to Rory, who scoops him up and carries him to the living room, letting him babble mostly nonsensical things the entire way.

Eddie flops to the floor and looks up at Steve.

“How much longer until he’s a reasonable human?”

Steve snorts. “Could be days. Could be years.”

Steve joins him on the floor, reaching out to lace their fingers together. The sound of Sawyer cheering for Rory fills the house and Eddie smiles to himself.

“Did he at least pick a shape for his cookie?” Steve asks.

“Nope. And I don’t even think I have the energy to make them anymore.”

“You want some help?” Steve offers.

Eddie turns his head and watches Steve smirking up at the ceiling.

“Are you gonna make dick shapes when I’m not looking?”

“I’d never.”

Eddie squints his eyes at Steve. “You did last year. I had to shove it in my mouth so no one would see.”

“Don’t act like you’re not used to shoving a dick in your mouth,” Steve laughs.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Alright. Watch yourself. We’ve still got hours before anyone’s dick is in anyone’s mouth. And at least four dozen cookies to bake. And a toddler to control.”

Steve kisses him quickly, just a peck. A promise for later.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Steve says.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

[fatallucidity]

I’ve been wanting to rant about this scene for a whiiiile chat. So here goes. This is from chapter 85. I’m a Loki simp so I just gotta.

I cannot get over the adorable art style change here!! He just looks so cute and playful. Yes, he’s always playful and laid back, but with Hilde, he just seems more…. Genuine. Like this is him actually trying to be friendly and make her smile. He often smiles maliciously when being snide or passive aggressive with Odin, especially when poking fun at him. Here, his smile just looks so much different. He looks pretty different from the start of the series, but it’s a very pleasant change. He still got those hips plus those amazing arms.

Hilde looks so pretty in that panel. Like my girl is just so gorgeous. I also love how Loki seems to want to actually help her. Gotta love his goofy poses.

The height difference is silly-

Also Loki trying convince her some more.

I CANNOT WITH THIS HILDE FRAME. She looks so beautiful. Whatever artist is drawing these oh so slayful lips on Beel and Hilde, I thank you.

Loki looks more sly here like he’s planning on doing more than just saving her. He just looks so smug, he thinks he’s convincing her. I just love when he floats around. He looks so cute and hot at the same time. THOSE HIIIIIIIPS THAT BACK CUUUURVE.

I’m still not quite sure how to interpret his little jig here lmao. Like Loki baby what’re you doing there??? It’s interesting how he claims to be better at convincing Odin than most, then asks her for a special favor.

I’m not surprised she interpreted this as being a transaction. He did certainly insinuate something, but given his reaction, he wasn’t trying to get her to hand over her body. His reaction is kind of adorable. He looks so flustered like “what did you just say-“ Possible Loki respecting women? Not confirmed really, given the whole doll thi-

Hilde my beloved. Straight up doesn’t care if she dies, since she knows that’s how Ragnarok works. Loki just looks so frustrated.

Here we get a glimpse of how petty Loki really is. He knew Siegfried is a sensitive spot for Hilde, he knew saying that would piss her off, that’s why he did it. In the exact moment she refused, he panicked and just reacted with pettiness to try and convince her to go along with his plan to save her. This shows us he really isn’t that mature. While he’s extremely intelligent and cunning, very sharp witted and analytical, he’s just immature in the long run. Loki deep down is petty and cunning in ways that gets people to do what he wants. Lemme remind y’all of season two of the anime when he’s fighting Buddha, Kondou, Sasaki, and Okita.

“Things don’t just go our way. We make it happen.”

This scene also perplexes me. He’s seems excited to learn about this, but probably because he’s planning something malicious. He knows Siegfried is her lover, and he’s filing that away for evil plans to get at her, maybe even to try and kill Siegfried. If he takes out her lover, he might think she feels all alone and will be more inclined to go to him for help. The art here is just amazing too. That panel of him looking stunned mid smile is mwahhh.

Once again. Her LIIIPS. MWAHS. she looks amazing as ever. Her cold response is expected. She sees Loki as the enemy given he’s a god who’s against saving humanity. My goodness his reaction is so sad. Like he’s just stunned at how unfeeling she is towards him. Once again Loki, immaturity won’t do shit.

Anyways, there’s my rant. I’ve used up the mobile image limit lmaoooo. I might talk about this more, but this just got me thinking, especially with the sad panel of Loki from the new chapter. Hope yall enjoyed, thanks for coming to me Ted talk

[saerins]

⋆୨ prologue ୧˚ all see through, just like glass

⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ next: chapter one - thorns without flowers, bars with no drinks ୧˚

⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?

ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 1.6k | ೀ content warnings: modern au, rich!reader & rich!sae, fluff/angst, swearing, somewhat boys being boys, manipulation/gaslighting, bad parents, yn has a sister here but won’t be mentioned too much !

i. y/n

“Don’t be so overly emotional, sweetheart. Isn’t this absolutely perfect for you?”

“You’re saying no? Can’t believe you’d say that… you know if you don’t do this you’re only damning your little sister instead, right?”

“Sweetie, we are listening to you. But don’t you think we would know what’s best for you? We’re only criticising you because we love you.”

Marriage; a concept you’d been familiar with since young, way back when you had a dream to marry your one and only Prince Charming—someone who’d appear one day and completely sweep you off your feet. Five year olds are silly like that. You’d believe in Prince Charming and fairytale endings and that two people in love would always work things out.

Being the daughter of a very successful businessman, a lot of things were given to you as a child. You never had to ask for toys, or books, or anything at all. Your father would ensure your material needs were well taken care of, and your mother would ensure you’re pampered from head to toe, buying you designer assets and making sure you look the best you can at each instance.

Life in the upper echelon is mostly desirable; the privileges are apparent, the favouritism rampant. You’re grateful for what you have, but there’s a small ball of thought inside you that wishes for your parents not to see you as a product, but as their child. Most of the people you had met had absolutely zero problems with their upbringing, perfectly content with being handed everything on a silver plate.

Most people except Mikage Reo, your best friend since the fourth grade. He hated having his life dictated for him too, and you both found common ground in that. Ever since then, you’d both been close as ever.

“Wait wait wait,” he nearly chokes on his rice, the disbelief in his tone overwhelming, an eyebrow cocked as his fringe falls over his left eye. “Repeat that again.”

A small sigh escapes your lips, your fork poking against the rice in your bowl, any form of appetite you had earlier being sucked out just by revisiting the topic. “It’s an arranged marriage.”

Reo appears unamused, but he restrains himself from commenting too much negativity. “And… what did you say?”

That’s why he’s a good friend—he feels you out first before filtering what he needs to say. He’ll still speak his mind, but depending on your decision, he’ll choose his words carefully.

You’ve always been eternally grateful for his presence. It calms you down, that sense of comfort irreplaceable. You know that if you ever really screw anything up that bad, you’ll have him—and really, that’s enough for you. Out of everything you have, you think this friendship’s probably the most precious one.

“The wedding’s in a couple months,” you half-answer, deciding to stop playing with your food and putting your fork down. The clang of the metal hitting the marble-top table is the last sound you hear for a while before Reo clears his throat.

Before Reo can get any words out, you interject. “The guy said yes too, apparently.”

Now he chokes on his rice.

You slide the glass of water across the table and Reo chugs it down, water trickling down the sides of his lips at his urgency. “How the fuck did your parents get Itoshi Sae of all people to say yes?”

Itoshi Sae. The name of your to-be husband. You know him as much as what you can search online. Twenty-five this year. No hobbies but it’s rumoured he’s good in soccer. He’s a lot like you when it comes to status and standing in the business world—the kid of successful self-made parents who everyone in your immediate circle automatically expects good things from. The pressure to perform and become someone of note since birth is probably something you both share. Except, maybe, Itoshi Sae looks like he’s a lot less obedient than you are. He looks like he’s more rebellious than not, and that’s why you wonder if he has any hidden agendas by agreeing to this business arrangement.

You know why you’re agreeing.

“Seriously, we raised this child and yet she’s so ungrateful!”

“Y/N, you know if you don’t do this then he’s just going to force this on your little sister, right?”

How can you let that slide as a big sister? Especially when your little sister is perfectly happy in a long-term relationship? Unfortunately, threatening their children isn’t below your parents.

Even when you revisit the conversation in your head, your mother’s faux concern is nauseating. She’s always been that way; everything your father says goes and she doesn’t offer much else other than what he expects of her. Maybe that’s why you grew up to be this way.

Shrugging, you turn your attention back to Reo, a small pout forming on your lips. “You know my dad. He’s always been good at talking.”

“What about you though? Are you really okay with this?”

At this point, Reo’s the only one who’s genuinely concerned for you. Maybe because he knows about all your childish dreams about finding The One. While you appreciate his concern, you brush it off.

“Yeah, I mean, how bad could things possibly get with Sae?”

Reo’s eyebrows show he’s not convinced, but he doesn’t say more.

“I’ll be fine, Reo, promise.”

You’ll just have to win Itoshi Sae over. Even if it’s hard, you’re determined to try and make the most of it. It won’t be that bad if you work hard on it… right?

ii. itoshi sae

“Either do this, or I’ll get Rin instead. It’ll be a pain, but don’t think I won’t do it.”

“Honey! Stop speaking like that… Sae, please try to understand, this will be a huge opportunity. It’s the least you owe us, hm?”

“You lost your shot, do you want Rin to lose his too?”

“If you don’t want her, I'll take her.”

“Go ahead.”

Sae’s completely tuned out of the conversation, the thoughts of his upcoming wedding filling his head. Now that everything’s settled between yours and his parents, it’s really kicking in that fuck, did he really let them dictate his love life like that?

“She’s pretty hot, though. I think she’s just a year younger than you?” Oliver’s scrolling through your Instagram—typical behaviour from his end. The moment Sae told them your name, it took only half a minute for Oliver and Otoya to find your online presence.

L/N Y/N. He’s always heard of you. Your name constantly leaves his parents’ mouths, ever since he was a kid. Apparently, your parents and his have been tight since high school. Sae is sceptical about the relationship, though. Nothing is ever that plain and simple between rich families. There must be a reason Sae’s never personally seen you, after all, despite his parents claiming to have a good relationship with yours.

“What the fuck’s going through their heads?”

And by that, Sae assumes that Otoya means his parents. If that’s the case, Sae has long decided he’s given up trying to understand what goes on in their heads—but if he had to guess, it’s probably all because of a simple business deal.

Having their kids wed each other would mean that one of them is absorbing the other. A little side knowledge that Sae doesn’t care for, so he only shrugs in response.

“Aw, little Sae is growing up,” Oliver sneers, earning a snicker from Otoya and a middle finger from Sae himself.

Otoya eggs him on, adding to the fire. “Yeah, to think that the guy who only ever dated once in his whole fucking life is the one getting married first,” he comments, eyes gazing to the side in deep thought, “what was her name again? Mirin?”

“Oh fuck, yeah I forgot about her,” Oliver exclaims, smirking at Sae. “First love type shit, right?”

Sae rolls his eyes, ignoring him, forcing him to change the subject.

“Shit, didn’t think you were the kind to ever say yes though,” Oliver remarks, eyes still glued onto the screen, likely still scrolling through your posts.

Oliver’s standards are quite high. Are you really that pretty? Sae’s never actually seen what you look like.

“I’m not fucking marrying her. I don’t even know her.”

“Maybe we should just pull Rin out then, get him to come back here and handle all this.”

“Sae, be a good boy and listen to us, okay? How about this—if it ever gets too bad, we’ll look into a divorce in the future, hm?”

As if he believes that. His parents are insufferable. There’s no point in ranting to this group though, so Sae brushes it off.

“Not like I care about this marriage shit,” he leans back, an air of nonchalance around him. “I’ll just shut my parents up and wait for the right time to leave.”

Otoya scoffs, smirking. “Lucky girl.” Sarcasm is his forté.

Oliver laughs, finally putting his phone down. “Okay you do that, and then I’ll pop up and be her Prince Charming and sweep her off her feet.”

Sae inwardly sighs to himself. His friends are insufferable as well, though he’d argue whether that’s the correct term for them. They’re only a group because their families happened to meet often. Somehow, Sae had been dragged into this weird association one day, and the rest is history.

“Do whatever the fuck you want.”

The rest of the night, Sae drowns out their conversation, choosing to ignore whatever shit they’re talking about. In his head, he’s only thinking about how long it’ll take before he can safely absolve himself from you without his parents threatening his younger brother’s career. More importantly, he’s wondering how the fuck he’s going to tell you he’s thinking of a divorce even before you get married.

Surely, you don’t really expect anything to come out of this either, do you?

If you do, you’ve got a rude awakening coming.

taglist: @kimvmarvel @mxplesyrvp @yuzurins @futuristicxie @kiopanxp @k0z3me @y-sabell-a @sae1toshilover

[homunculus-argument]

hey there! this sounds like a bit of a silly question, but as a trans guy, you’re one of the few trans people i’ve been following almost since i joined tumblr, so based on your other anon ask and answer i figured i’d pop in and ask if you have any advice? if you want to answer, ofc :) — i foresee this being a bit long, so i totally get if not

so i’m also a trans guy, but i haven’t been able to take any steps toward medical transitioning before since i live with my parents. but i’ll move out soon, and i still can’t decide if i should take any of these steps even once i do. i’ve never felt like i particularly wanted to medically transition (i don’t really care about how my body looks + i’ve never really cared about changing any of it), but i would like to be seen a guy — i don’t mind if not so by strangers, but maybe so by like, my friends. but i can’t help but feel like i’d be laughed at for wanting that — i’m not naturally androgynous or masculine looking to others and i have never been mistaken for a guy, because i have really long hair, d cups, and curves. and without medically transitioning, i also kinda feel like i’m… betraying the trans community, since i’m not really putting the effort into my transition and so i’m just ‘pretending’, even though i do know i’m not.

so my question would be: as a trans person who has transitioned, socially and medically, do you think people are more understanding than i think they are currently? do you know of any trans people who don’t want to medically transition, and do you think it’s possible to live fulfilled that way? or even: do you think it would be easier for someone like me to just live a lie? i usually tell people i’m a lesbian, because they definitely would not look at me and assume ‘straight guy’, but also, as a trans person who doesn’t want to medically transition, i’m just always worried that i won’t be taken seriously. i feel like your experience of being trans and probably interacting with the community is much more than mine, which is why i ask this last one — i would try being open myself, but again, i’m still living with my parents unfortunately.

I'll be honest I don't actually really know much "community" save for former art school classmates. I've only known one trans person irl who chose not to medically transition - at the time, Finland's trans law was still shitty and required sterilisation for legal sex change, and all that. She didn't want kids or anything, but refused to engage in the process as her own little personal civilian protest. I don't want to paint some caricature picture of some Sharp Dommy Tall Scary Goth Trans Anarchist, but I was deeply impressed by the way she didn't do a single thing to try to seem smaller, softer, or in any way submissive or docile to be ~feminine~ the right, socially accepted way.

She wasn't just taller than most men but usually the tallest person in the room, and she stood out in a crowd of cis women like a crane in a chicken coop - a bird just as much as they are, but a different kind of bird. And I remember thinking that I could never do that, being so unflinching and unhesitant about standing out in the crowd because assimilating and muting yourself is beneath your dignity.

Honestly, I don't know what to tell you about being openly trans without transitioning medically, save for that it takes more guts than being able to just go stealth. I had physical dysphoria about the way my body was, and was desperate to get top surgery just for the sake of my own physical comfort, and I like the convenient anonymity of being able to just be Just Some Guy who doesn't attract anyone's interest or curiosity.

It's a smart move to not come out to your parents before you're out of their house and not relying on them for anything - this is something everyone should use their own judgement for, but I stress it to every queer kid to not take the risk if there's any chance that they'll react poorly while they still have power over you. But living your whole life in the closet - "living a lie" is a good way to put it - will corrode you from the inside.

It's better to live in peace with yourself and against the world, than in peace with the world against yourself. There is absolutely nothing in your power that you could do to change the minds of people who have already decided that they don't respect you, and if they try telling you that they would, if you only met their approved criteria, they are lying. That's bait they're dangling in front of you, and there's no "earning" the respect of such people.

Stay true to yourself and be good to people, and you'll have the respect of people who are capable of respecting you. Don't waste your time and energy on people who won't respect you, every thought and effort you spare them is wasted on them.